Between Two Skies: A Sequel to Big, Yellow Taxi
by Elizabeth Athineu
Summary: After becoming King, Prince Nuada's life is becoming more difficult than ever. He must now defend the forest, protect the Golden Army, face off against Rasputin and humanity, and now he needs the time & perfect way to propose to his beloved . . . Titania.
1. Puck's Journal and the Chronicles

_(((I could not find a good enough connection to the characters of the other story and so have converted the idea into a sequel to Big Yellow Taxi. I missed having Puck and Titania to add to the story, but this does still incorporate Rhonzo, Lummeweiss, Meyers, and Rasputin. Yes, Professor Broom will be making a comeback as will the long-lost twin brother of King Balor . . . a great hero from the ancient days!)))_

!Disclaimer! I do not own rights to 'Hellboy' or any of its respective characters, nor did I create any of the characters mentioned in this story that derive from Celtic and Danish myth or Shakespearean literature. I do own and did create the characters Titania Rhiannon Manning, Nadia, Jenna Finkelstein, and Leopold Abraham Sebastian Balor Ludwig Nuada Sapien. Other acknowledgements for names used and items mentioned will be added in a separate section at the end of this story, thank you!

From the Journals of Puck, Vizier and Friend to the King, as it is written in the Chronicles of Bethmoora Royal:

The royal record of Bethmoora and its peoples kept this 19th Day of September in the year 2010 AD (by human reckoning) and two centuries since 'The Great Rift', by Puck the rabbit pwca and personal vizier to the king, in the court of Prince Nuada Silverlance, the King of Bethmoora and the Kingdoms of Magic, the son of Balor King of Elfland; here shall be detailed the current state of affairs of the king, his family, and the kingdom:

Nuada, King of Bethmoora, has been reigning for three years over the realm. He has defeated Oberon, King of the Dark Faeries and the Council of the Wicked, with the aid of his new liaisons to the Western world. The Western world now harbors the largest of the troll markets in the world and the only on the continent of North America lies beneath Brooklyn New York under the supervision of Red Broom, the demon protector once known as Anung Un Rama. The western world's magical denizens have become restless and desire that the island be returned to them alone and that several forests be handed over as well. A recent devastating event in which detrimental fossil oils spewed into the ocean toward the south, prompting the Bayou faeries and Cajun goblins to ask that the king use a great deal of magic to cleanse the ocean and then destroy all humans and their sea-based contraptions at once. While the King agrees with the desire and, had most recently desired to eradicate humanity in general, he has assured the citizens that they must act with caution now that their world is under the scrutiny of other governments. This, like many other issues of smaller significance, is attributed to the King's current focus.

The king has courted the Ostara, Titania Rhiannon Manning, for 17 months and has expressed a need to have her as his wife. The question has not been yet asked, but the king plans to ask for her hand on the festival of Alban Elued on the 21st day of September 2010. The celebration of the sacred coming of autumn will be held upon the entrance to the Fairy Court on the 'Druid Island' amidst the stone pillars forming the entrance. Preparations will begin this Thursday and will be overseen by Jareth, King of the Goblins and General of Prince Nuada's army.

Princess Nuala and her husband, Abraham Sapien, continue to reside in the Americas in a home for the Bureau of Paranormal Research and Defense while Abraham remains an agent for them. Their son, Leopold Abraham Sebastian Balor Ludwig Nuada Sapien, has not yet been brought to Bethmoora Palace since his introduction to the court. His mother refuses to force him to learn of the ways of their people and desires that he learn the ways of the west and his father's work first. He does not speak his people's tongue and the king has expressed supreme displeasure to his sister and her husband. He does not command that she change the boy's education, but he does seem distressed by the issue.

The king's father continues to wander Bethmoora Forest on the 'Druid Island' as a defender and servant of the Scatterhorne Clan. Rumors have reached the former king that Rhonzo, the master scribe of the realms and a hob-goblin healer, peddler, and entertainer has begun a trek toward Bethmoora Forest and toward the palace to give the Princely King the wisdom he had given his father. Rhonzo continues to have in his care, Lummeweiss NiAmeathon, the child of Maeven of Arianrod and Theodemir the First King of the Ostrogoths, in his care. Maven did not wed the human father of her child and the girl continues to be outcast from Elfland and so has remained in the hobgoblin's care since she reached the age of 1,200. Rhonzo has expressed a desire to force Elfland and the magical realm to accept the girl and appoint her to his court as a scribe after having received training from Rhonzo for many, many years as well as many human societies including the Roma.

This day will mark a period of great unrest for the Prince who is King. Perchance the earth will grant him a more peaceful future . . .


	2. 1 Some Time Later

Chapter 1: Some Time Later

The enormous white stag strode uneasily through the mists of the morning. The moor was covered in its trademark wispy fog that served as a dressing gown for the island as it slept. A stillness and odd anxiousness moved through the trees. Balor, the stag who had once been king of the Bethmoora, frowned and blinked up at the sky. It was still quite dark as the sun began rising behind a thick covering of rain clouds. It had been three years than a year since his son had come to claim the throne of the magical realm and he himself had been charged with the task of guarding Bethmoora Forest from the threat of mankind's improvements. He sighed heavily and moved further into the forest. He turned his head and watched pensively as the first few rays of light that would be the only warmth for the day made their way through the drops of water forming the cloud's veil. He frowned and lifted his head, calling out to the members of the Scatterhorne Clan to come and tell him what it was he was sensing.

He waited patiently for a few moments until an unsettling sound met his ears from a great distance away. His nose trembled as he recognized the scent of man in the forest. While the presence of humans was not always something to be feared, he could hear something sinister in the faint beating of their empty hearts . . . greed. He raised his head and called more loudly to the Scatterhorne and began bounding towards the scent and sounds of men. Nuada had been introduced to Titania in this forest and her mother lived not far away in an enormous mansion. Had Nadia called on men to come into the forest for profit? He grunted in disapproval at the thought as he hurried towards the sound. Donovan, the alpha male and leader of the clan met him with three other bucks as they moved through the forest.

Balor felt his heart racing with the same furious tension that had once been his source of power in heading into battle. He could remember a time when he proudly strode out before hordes of humans and evil beings clad in shining armour with his own sword raised to deal all the necessary blows in clearing his land of enemies. Now, a mere stag, he felt incredibly small and dull. Never the less, there was determination in the stag's breath as he neared the group of humans he had smelled earlier. Balor frowned. He could neither recognize the garb they wore or the language they were speaking. He raised his head and bayed out a long warning to the men as they began hacking at the trees with axes and other objects. These men did not want the trees for profit or the land; what did they want? What were they looking for? His eyes grew wide as the strain of magic left in him sensed their intentions. A great heaviness moved over him, the burden of one being faced with an unresolved sin. He continued the call until Donovan shouted to him to turn and run. Balor frowned, hearing the trees crying to him. Donovan bounded over to his white companion and told him to run once more. Balor felt his blood freeze. He turned and looked up as an enormous oak came crashing down on top of them.

(*)

Nuada awoke with a start. It had been a few days since he had dreamt of his father or the old days, and it had been many years since he had dreamed of the wars and battles before. He groaned and grasped his head as he sat upright and gathered his breath. The sight of the forest had haunted him the past few nights, but he had yet to return and find out whether or not there was any assistance needed. After all, his father was watching over the forest and should anything terrible have happened then either Balor or Puck would have alerted him. He felt a sharp pain in his chest as a furious knocking resounded from the doorway to the very center of each and every nerve ending within him. He groaned more loudly and climbed slowly out of the bed, slipping on a dark tunic from a nearby chair as he opened the door and winced at the bright light without.

"What is it?" he muttered.

"Forgive me, sire," a familiar voice stammered with a chilling anxiousness. Nuada opened his eyes more fully and gazed down at the form of Puck, crouched on his furry white haunches with eyes and whiskers trembling. "There has been a terrible incident in the forest, in Bethmoora." Nuada felt the pain in his chest that had begun with the knocking grow into a bright blue blaze within him. He turned, not bothering to close the door, and began to dress hurriedly. Puck swallowed hard and scooted closer to the entrance. "Sire, your father . . ."

"I will be up to the forest shortly, Puck. Go and wait for me at the portal, now," the elf ordered quickly. Puck frowned and hesitated. Nuada turned and glared at the rabbit faerie. "NOW!"

Puck leapt a few inches in the air at the prince's exclamation and then scurried back up towards the portal that led directly into Bethmoora Forest. He sat anxiously waiting for the prince, but luckily only had to do so for a few brief seconds. Puck felt a shiver run through him as the prince approached. He was dressed not in simple explorative attire as he usually wore when out in the forest, but instead in the black and red royal warrior's gear that he had worn when starting out on his quest to destroy mankind. As the elf passed, Puck lowered his ears nearly to the ground and hopped after him. Nuada was nearly running as the portal began to close behind them. He hesitated a moment and heard another familiar creature approaching. The portal rippled and warped as a large, lumbering troll strode through and grunted unhappily at the elf. Nuada smiled at his friend and comrade, Wink, for a moment before continuing on. Puck frowned at the sight of the troll and shook his head more anxiously as the sounds of the forest became louder and louder.

"Father?" the elf called, suddenly feeling the strained silence of the surrounding trees. Whatever had happened earlier in the day here had set off a most unpleasant response. He looked around at the towering ancestors and laid one hand on a nearby willow oak, asking silently what had transpired. The tree did its best to explain what it had heard and felt from its brethren to the prince in a few moments. Nuada growled softly and raced in the direction the tree had mentioned was the source of the problem. Puck drew in a deep breath and hurried ahead of the prince to try and spare him from anything terribly unsettling if he could. The pwca froze at the sight of the very base of an enormous oak that had toppled to the ground. He hopped hurriedly along the edge as the prince began to catch up. The sight of a pair of antlers protruding out from underneath the fallen trunk caused both the pwca and the elf to gasp in horror. While Puck remained perfectly still, Nuada knelt hurriedly beside the remains of the tree and gingerly stroked one of the enormous antlers. "Father," he whispered sadly.

Puck moved towards him and gently laid a paw on his shoulder. "Oh, sire, how awful," Puck said.

"He will be greatly missed. That is Donovan, son of Ciarn and he is the only reason I am still alive," Balor said from a few feet behind the two. The elf-prince and the pwca turned and stared at the white stag. Nuada felt a surge of relief wash over him. Balor moved forward slowly and sadly as his son rose awkwardly and embraced him. He grunted as the arms of the new king of his realm folded tightly around him. Wink grunted loudly from several feet away, taking in the sight of the forest with caution. "I am surprised you did not come sooner. It was always in you to sense the presence of humans more thoroughly and quickly than any others of our kind."

"I did not sense anything," the prince muttered in confusion. "Not anything . . ."

"I am not sure what they hoped they would find here, but they were most assuredly searching for something . . . something terrible," Balor continued uneasily. Nuada looked over the enormous tree lying on the ground with sorrow. Why on earth would they seek out the father tree of the forest? What kind of riches could they have hoped to unearth in the largest, oldest tree without taking the corpse with them? He turned slowly and faced his father, awaiting the stag's explanation. "They know of the Golden Army, the world of man, I have sensed it. They know of its power, of its purpose and hope to find where its remnant lie to rebuild it."

"That's absurd; the crown was destroyed and the army with it," Nuada countered. Balor's face remained still and stern. Nuada felt entirely confused at his father's silent disagreement. "Wasn't it?"

Balor shifted and looked past his son. "The crown was destroyed, but the army lays unclaimed. I do not know how the humans discovered this information, but the army can be commanded and used by any that re-forges the crown with Goblin magic and takes command. I have had many dreams these past few nights, my son; nightmares in fact. The army could still rise again." The former king's voice seemed accusing when speaking of the re-forging of the crown and his eyes nearly narrowed at Nuada who had looked more than dishonest when exclaiming that the crown had been entirely destroyed. Balor had sensed that his son had done something recently with its gold, but felt it best to not say anything on the subject or pry until a better opportunity for confession presented itself. Balor moved closer to his son and stared directly into his eyes. "I fear for our kind, my son, more than ever before."

"How is this possible?" Nuada said, feeling his breath beginning to leave him at this shock.

"Even I do not have those answers, my son," Balor continued unhappily. He glanced behind him at a gathering of does and three large bucks that were awaiting news on Donovan. He sighed heavily and turned back to his son. "Call the sisterhood together. Confer about this matter with the Ceridwen and the Modron."

"I will, father," Nuada replied with a bow. Balor snorted once and then bounded towards the waiting herd. The elf watched with apprehension. Puck lowered his ears and moved more closely to the prince. "What then, Puck? Will they leave nothing sacred and living?"

"I am not sure that all men are behind the evils of their kind, sire," Puck replied with a tone of hope. "After all, Titania was never as cruel as the men you've faced in battle."

A pleasant smiled crossed the troubled prince's dark lips at the mention of his friend. Titania, he had almost forgotten to include her with the rest of humanity. Had he continued to acknowledge her as a human so frequently, he would not have been able to court her these past few years or so. He sighed and motioned for the rabbit and the troll to follow him back beneath the ground and into the palace portal. Perhaps he should confer with her as well. He stopped moving for a moment and smiled. No, not her, not yet. It might be more prudent to speak with his sister and the others around her at the bureau that had faced the army before and knew of the desires of many groups of humans across the globe. Yes, if there was one person who could tell the prince what was weighing on the hearts of men in the world it was Titania's father, Thomas Manning.

(*)

"I am at the end of my rope!" Thomas Manning raved as he paced back and forth in the conference room. He breathed heavily and pulled out a handkerchief to wipe his brow. Elizabeth Sherman Broom and her husband, code name Hellboy(Red to everyone else), sat in the conference room watching him. He had called for Liz specifically that afternoon to speak with her, but something told her husband that it would be best for him to come along as well. "I can't get her to decide on a college, any college or university. I let her look at all the Ivy Leagues, all of them a-a-a-and then last week I did the unthinkable; I took her to open house at Berkley. Berkley of all places!"

"That's a decent school for political studies," Liz said with a shrug.

"That's not the point! Do you have any idea what goes on at Berkley? Do you know what they do to innocent little girls like Tania! It's every conservative father's worst nightmare! Bra burning's and liberation rallies, it's sickening!" Liz cleared her throat and raised a brow at him in disapproval. He waved both hands trying to dismiss his last few words. "That's neither here nor there, the point is she won't choose one. She won't even consider the idea of going to a university, not at all! Her mother has tried to get her into one of the schools in England and Jenna suggested a satellite or a school in another country or even the Peace Corps. Thank God she didn't choose the Peace Corps." Red and Liz both shot the man glares at this statement. Manning sighed and placed both his hands on the center table. "She's finished high school, or rather, she's finished finishing school and now she's on about how her future is with that Prince Nuada. Can you believe that?"

"Can we believe that she's finished school already or can we believe that she's still in love with the pasty freak? Because they're both true and they're both just not sticking in anyone's mind yet," Red replied with a chuckle. Liz frowned at him and turned to Manning.

"You've known that Tania and Nuada wanted to be married last year," she continued.

"And I put a stop to it," Manning said proudly.

"No you didn't; you told Tania that you forbid her to marry anyone outside of her species and started a five month stretch of her hating your existence and Prince Nuada trying to end you without being obvious," Liz interjected. "He did get creative, though, I'll give him that."

Manning shook his head and placed his hands firmly, and flatly, again on the table in the centre of the room. Red frowned and placed his less threatening hand on the man's shoulder comfortingly. Manning looked back at him in surprise. Since the twins had been born, both the demon and the pyro had changed significantly, though there still seemed to be a definite defiance for all authority in the demon aimed almost exclusively at Manning himself. Why would the demon comfort him now?

"I think you're going to have to look at it from a different angle, Manning," Red offered. Manning looked back in confusion. "Honestly, would you rather have her wandering around with some weirdo from England or California, or would you have her live out her life attached at the hip to an honourable prince? Well, a prince anyway."

"Oh, so all of a sudden he's the lesser of two evils?" Manning countered.

"Doubtless evil will never cease to follow my image in the minds of any of your kind," the prince said from somewhere in the room. Liz's eyes narrowed and began scanning for him as Red and Manning froze. "Still, it would be appreciated if honourable would one day accompany it. After all, while evil was accomplished through my actions they were of nothing less than an entirely noble nature."

The three stepped back as Nuada appeared out from behind a suit of armor. Manning frowned as Red smirked. It had been several months since the prince had come to see about his sister and nephew, swearing up and down that it would be the last instance until Nuala showed the boy their own homeland. Nuala continued to refuse, sensing some sort of unrest that she could neither name nor describe in entirety. The prince folded his arms behind him and bowed respectfully to both Red and Liz before turning to Manning. He straightened his gaze into something more harsh as the man moved closer to him and pointed a finger at him accusingly.

"You've got some nerve showing up right now. Do you know how many times I've asked Tania to just break it off with you?" Manning said firmly.

"Between your pleas for me to speak to her assuring me that I bring her true joy? At least seventy three in the past year if you wish to include each stammer that emerges from your desperate lips as a separate thought," Nuada countered with an anger of his own. "I wish to speak to you of the actions of your kind, not your child. Titania is, mercifully, not human enough to be counted among your race, and it is they who lie at fault for a disturbance in Bethmoora this very morning."

"Please, that's my wife, ex-wife, EX-wife's realm not mine. She owns that whole stretch of land," Manning said waving both hands defensively. "If someone's trying to cut down some trees take it up with her."

Nuada narrowed his eyes and stepped uncomfortably close to the bureaucrat. Manning felt a flicker of terror at seeing the hatred filling the prince's features. "If only the sacred trees were the sole beings in question, Dr. Manning. My father was almost killed and a great defender took his place in eternity this very morning," the prince hissed. He leaned more closely to the man. "And for this I feel that it would be better to speak with a figure of authority rather than a silly woman of the world."

"Watch it," Liz warned from a short distance away. Nuada looked up at her. While his desire to end humanity's existence might have somewhat faded for the time being, the disdain for their nature still existed very comfortably within him. He turned and strode toward her slowly. Hellboy stiffened at this gesture while Liz remained calm and folded her arms casually at the prince's approach. "Someone might start thinking you're a chauvinist with talk like that."

"Chauvinism in human men, Elizabeth Broom, is the unfortunate, writhing, wretched shell in which chivalry survives after having been tormented into assent by the tedious fickle nature of human women," Nuada countered. Liz raised one brow at him and he could now see a small blue hue hovering over her head and feel the heat from the flames that were welling within her. He smiled. "But seeing as there is only one_ real_ human in this room," he turned back and nodded to Manning, "and he is by no means a cad, I think we would do well to keep our thoughts and words affixed to the point of the discussion I introduced."

"Wow, what made you so moody all of a sudden?" the pyro continued, not relenting from her offense to the prince's comment.

"My father was almost killed in front of me, Elizabeth Broom, a second time," Nuada reminded firmly.

"Which should make you a little less irritated in thinking that it wasn't going to be you doing him in _this_ time," Manning interjected, trying to do his best to keep the room from filling with Liz's flames while accepting any heat Nuada might place on him. The elf turned and glared at him. Manning breathed a sigh of relief and gestured toward him. "Look, whatever happened is obviously in the jurisdiction of the UK and has nothing to do with us. You'll need to contact the authorities in that region."

Nuada frowned and shook his head in disapproval. Thomas Manning seemed to have had a great deal of power in this nation, or at least that was the prince's understanding up until now. He knew that the man had some ability to aid in this situation. He carefully withdrew a dagger and walked over to the wooden table in the office and shoved a few of the loose papers on the desk off to the side. He snorted indignantly and forced the tip of the dagger into the surface of the table and began to etch in it a symbol. He carefully recalled the symbol that called humankind to war and, as he finished, looked up to see horror emblazoned on Manning's face. Liz and Red looked equally unsettled by this. Nuada swiftly pulled the dagger away from the table and slipped it back into his sash. He turned back to Red. "I have yet to rescind my call to war on humanity," the prince warned. "I have yet to decree peace."

"The call was never really answered by your kind, either," Liz countered. Nuada glared at her and then frowned. She shook her head and looked at the floor. "Not that people are going to change just because they find out they were all spared from death . . . it's gone unnoticed before. Your people are still waiting to see if there's hope, I think, just like we are."

Nuada felt a twinge of grief for the pyro, knowing that she had seen and felt great pain for her husband and herself because of man. His gaze softened and seemed to apologize for his harshness without words. She glanced at him and shook her head once more. "It is true, my people did not follow me into battle alongside the Golden Army," the prince replied. He turned back to Manning. "And yet I still fear that humanity's destruction of the earth will continue. Their presence in the forest, the forest named itself for my family, was hostile and cannot be ignored."

"We'll do what we can," Hellboy put in. Manning and Nuada turned toward him, surprised at the mature and succinct response. "You still need to do some more research and find out what really went down, though."

"I will learn what I can and send others to prevent further damage to the forest," he said. After bidding Liz and Red goodbye, he gripped the hilt of his sword and nodded to Manning. With his eyes still lowered, he spoke directly to the aging bureaucrat. "Do not forget, Thomas Manning, that as the Ostara, Titania is bound to the forest; it is her charge. If it dies . . . so will she."

Manning's expression of horror turned to something even more frightened, possibly the most frightened Nuada had ever seen a human. This was good, but he hated the reason for it. Manning's intercommunication device sounded off and he answered it immediately. Red and Liz looked at Nuada in genuine concern combined with a twinge of remorse for not having been able to do more for the elf that had changed so much for the bureau in so many ways, so many wonderful ways. Manning frowned and announced that they were needed immediately in the conference room. Nuada sighed heavily and moved to walk past the bald, trembling man. He gently patted the man on the shoulder and strode away calmly. He had spoken to those of some authority over the world of man and now it was time to speak with the one who had authority over the worlds of the seasons, of the forest itself. He needed to speak with the Ostara of the Sisterhood. He smiled as he disappeared from the room, enveloped in the darkness of a traveling spell. Yes, he _**needed**_ to speak to the Ostara, but he also _**wanted**_ to speak to Titania.


	3. 2 Darkness Awakens

Chapter 2: Darkness Awakens

Far away in Antarctica, Roderick Zinco stood watching Grigory Rasputin as he quietly looked into the small leather book he had been holding. Steam continued to pulse from the hole in his chest where his very heart should have been. He smirked as if amused by Zinco's noting it while he continued to study the pages. Kroenen, now entirely aware of the basic powers and strengths of the mechanical body he was to inhabit, turned and watched the old sorcerer as well. Rasputin pulled a faded piece of paper, folded thrice, from the pages of the book. Zinco shifted uncomfortably.

"I'm still not sure what the purpose of all that will be," the millionaire said with a disdainful nod toward the page and a look of apprehension toward Kroenen. "We have the technology and resources to build a new army, a better army, an army constructed of titanium. Gold is a soft metal and apt to fail as a weapon."

"It is not the gold that makes them wondrous," Rasputin replied. His voice was saturated with incredible confidence. He unfolded the page carefully and almost affectionately. He studied it front and back for a moment and then turned to Zinco. "If you are to assist me, you must stop thinking like a human. A human would see the gold first and the true power second, or perhaps, not at all."

"The 'magic' used to create them must have faded away years ago whether they can function or not," the wealthy lunatic continued.

"Magic does not fade, Mister Zinco," Rasputin whispered with great relish. Zinco frowned and shook his head. The old sorcerer gently placed the page back in the book and shut it loudly. "Nothing fades. Nothing is lost or destroyed . . . ever. Things change. Life as it is known now will pass through fire and become something far darker, far more magnificent. The Golden Army with Kroenen among them will pass through the fire and shine with blood as the new chosen race. A race of beings will be left with only loyalty to their sovereign, me."

"And why do we need to find them?" Zinco remarked. Kroenen had, by this time, begun making an odd dance out of simply stepping in place and feeling for his new limbs in the deep, cold snow. He shuddered and grinned at the sight of a portion of the divine plan. "He will be easily defeated if he poses a challenge, but why take the time to find him?"

"Because, my dear Mister Zinco, you might have noticed that I am not quite all here," the Russian sneered. He waved a hand through the strange steam and gave his accomplice a cold sneer. Zinco stood still and watched the man approach him. The sorcerer still needed him too greatly at this point and could not afford to get rid of him just yet. He strode to standing barely a hair's breadth away from his face. "I could replace it with a mortal's like yours, but I would rather have the heart of something a little more versatile and enduring."

"But an _elf_?" Zinco interjected.

Rasputin tilted his head back and laughed scornfully. The display of mockery lasted for what seemed like half an hour. After he had finished, he turned to his new companion and smiled. "Not merely one elf. It will be incredible, Mister Zinco, and it will be of the greatest evil. Such power," he said trembling. Excitement flowed through and around him as easily as the steam though with more fullness of spirit. "I shall be invincible once and for all."

"And we find the male first, then?" Zinco asked. His own breath was forming steam that mingled with Rasputin's.

"Yes," he replied with a small ounce of the laughter still clinging to his vocal chords. "His heart will be so much easier to find. After all, he has given it fully to no one; let it grow weak and unprotected." He casually walked to the torn snow where Kroenen had been playing. "Yes, we will be without an equal to our power, then. There is no match now, and, what's more, there never has been."

(*)

Titania sat on the floor in the tree-house looking over one of her least favorite text books. She glanced at the chronology tables and images in the summary sections and wrinkled her nose at the black and white images of emaciated victims of labor camps. She shook her head. The history book had reminded her repeatedly of the darker side of her fiancée. Prince Nuada's desire to destroy mankind had stemmed from nothing short of man's continued testimony to their own foul nature. Had he been armed with images like these during any of their discussions, she would have found it impossible to persuade him of man's importance on the earth seeing as she would be convinced of the opposite. She thought for a moment. He probably did have these images on hand, just not printed copies. She flipped over the hard cover of the book and sat back on her elbows, letting her head drape past her shoulders and closing her eyes. It had been too long, far too long since she and Nuada had enough time for an interlude. By her reckoning it had been almost two weeks since she had seen him. _A whole two weeks_, she thought_. _She could remember a time when it was impossible to let one day go by without being by his side. Now that he had gone back to his father's throne, things were more difficult than ever._ This isn't much of a sanctuary for him anymore_, she thought, recalling how anxious he had been during their last few interludes._ Even when he's here, he never stays very long. Someone always comes along and tells him it's time to be heading back_.

She suddenly felt a tender kiss on her forehead. While she couldn't see the figure kneeling behind her, she could tell by familiarity that the lips gently pressed against her brow were dark, as dark as night. She smiled more brightly and sighed, keeping her eyes closed as he pressed his cheek against the back of her head. "Soon, Titania, the trifles that keep us parted will no longer disturb what we have been granted," he said softly. She smiled more brightly and slowly sat up, opening her eyes and drinking in the image of her prince. They appraised each other for a moment. A moment was all Titania could stand any longer and she suddenly, forcefully wrapped her arms around his neck and collapsed into him in an embrace that she hoped portrayed her weakness without him. He folded his arms around her in like manner, pulling her into him. "I have missed you."

"As much as I've missed you?" she asked, nudging her head into his chest and breathing deeply.

He grinned. "More," he said. His mind floated momentarily back to the images of their meeting, of their courting, of everything he had experienced in this forest. He had been reborn here. He had been remade here. He had been renewed here and not merely with the strength of nature, but with Titania's love as well. He still remembered her trembling, standing against the tree when he had first seen her. That tree, he thought. A flash from the morning's events when through his mind and the horrific vision of Titania being underneath the tree as it crashed onto the earth pierced his thoughts. He shuddered and breathed harshly. Titania sensed this and pulled away, sitting in front of him and gazing at him with concern. She softly placed a hand on the side of his face as he looked away, trying to force the vision away in order to speak without such emotions rising in him. She frowned and placed her other hand on his shoulder. He panted and finally opened her eyes, taking hold of both her hands slowly.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

He frowned and rose slowly, helping her stand along with him. The girl's gaze remained unmoving from either their focus on him or the genuine concern generated toward him. He turned toward the doorway and gestured with one hand. "Come, Titania," he said almost sadly. This was not going to be a pleasant revelation for her. She sensed his anticipation and squeezed his hand, trying to give him the notion that she was strong enough to handle whatever he was afraid to show her. A little relief passed through him at the gesture and he reminded himself that Titania was no mere human and had already faced that which humans fear most. He looked down at her with less emotion and more resolve. "There is something you must tend to with me."


	4. 3 The Great Forest

Chapter 3: The Great Forests

Titania knelt over the tree and placed both hands on it tenderly. Nuada stood but a pace away and watched. He felt grief for her as her face twisted in pain and she closed her eyes. She breathed harshly and began trembling as she moved her hands down to where Donovan's body had fallen earlier that day. Wink had been told to remove it and allow the other creatures to pay respect to him before his burial. Still, it was plain that Titania could feel his loss and she was sorrowing for the tree as well. There had not been any instances of destruction in the forest since her induction into the sisterhood as the Ostara. This was, of course, part of her existence and duties now, but being faced with such a horrible stain on what had been returned to innocent after her brush with death felt like dying all over again. She groaned and leaned forward, beginning to sob loudly. Nuada moved to kneel in front of her and took hold of her shoulders.

"It is passed, Titania, you must remember that," he said firmly. She sobbed and looked away, tears streaming down her pale cheeks as more of the tree's spirit departed. Nuada frowned and continued to hold her shoulders as firmly and comfortingly as he could. "There was nothing that could have protected them, Titania. This is what man does to the forests."

She shook her head firmly and gripped the remnants of the brittle bark on the tree. It crumpled into her hands like flesh and disappeared with a passing breeze. She drew in a deep breath and opened her eyes, looking directly into his. "She had lived for so long, but she wasn't ready to die," she whispered. "She was terrified . . . so frightened. She knew that Donovan was going to die with her."

"All trees possess a foresight into their own demise. It is part of what makes them strong and solemn," he explained. Titania loved knowledge and he hoped that giving her more information would deter her from any further vicarious trauma or mourning. She released her grip on the tree and gently placed her hands over his. He hid the trace of a smile that moved through him at feeling the tree's spirit and the earth's energy still lingering in her palms. He had been guided to her for this purpose, he had known it from the beginning . . . or at least fairly close to the beginning. "Did you see anything about the humans that were in the forest, Titania? That is what we must know. We must know who they are in order to destroy them before they destroy anything else."

"Hasn't there been enough_** destruction**_?" she suddenly shouted. Nuada winced a little at her words and looked at her in surprise. She squeezed her eyes closed another moment and shook her head before taking another deep breath. "I'm sorry, your majesty. This is not new, but this perspective is. I wish I could share this and at the same time I wish I could remove it from myself."

"Gifts are wonderful and terrible things, like so many of what we have on earth through magic. What is said of visions and dreams could be said of empathy, illusion, healing, and love," Nuada said soothingly. Titania nodded slowly, still looking entirely unsettled by the ordeal. Part of the prince turned king regretted having sullied her peaceful morning and, indeed, her peace within the forest itself. It would never be quite the same for her to be among the trees after feeling the death of one, but it was necessary. He was relieved that he was present for her first realization of this duty, but it pained him to see her grief all the same. Titania began to stand slowly and Nuada did the same, watching carefully to make sure that her footing would hold. "Do you feel anything else, see anything else?"

She breathed deeply and raised her eyes to meet his own. A chill moved through him as he noted that her eyes had changed from their usual emerald colour into an odd lavender that seemed to pulse as a cloud within her irises. Her eyes were glowing with a force of magic he had not yet seen in her. The gifts of the Ostara had been manifesting more and more over the past three years, but he had not seen them manifest to this magnitude this quickly. Titania was, after all, quite young and still had a humanity about her. He had not expected this kind of reaction from her for another decade or so. He reached out toward her carefully and she moved forward, walking past him. He watched and began to follow quickly. "A symbol," she muttered. "There was a symbol . . . Abe should see it."

(*)

"What? That's not possible!" Red exclaimed as Manning stood at the head of the conference table in front of him with a beige folder bearing bad news. "Isn't that what Meyers and his team are up there protecting us from?"

"They're observers, not really equipped to handle things like you do," Manning explained uneasily. Liz sat beside her husband, arms crossed firmly with an equally firm expression. She had grown even more austere as a mother toward the demon while trying to maintain a nurturing persona with their children. "We're going to need you and Krauss to go and check in with them and bring back whoever has settled in."

"They said it looked like an explosion had taken place near a settlement that looked like it was a Nazi lab that just disappeared the next day; are you sure you want to send Krauss in for something like that?" Red added.

"For that last time, agent Hellboy, I am Austrian and not a Nazi," the voice of the entity said defensively from the other side of the table. "And agent Meyers reported that the disturbance seems to have the same energy surrounding it that was present in your encounter with Grigory Rasputin. If that is true, then he will likely try to open the gate to the Ogdru Jahad once more."

"Actually, my feelings tell me that he may be more concerned with something a little different this time. He did summon Sammael during our last encounter which might bring him to the realms of Nergal more than the Gods of Chaos," Abe interjected. Nuala sat quietly beside him looking a little out of place while seated with Leopold watching the other trained agents intently. She had insisted since he had been old enough to walk and speak that he learn as much of the life he would lead as possible and insisted that he would lead his father's life as well. Nuada had tried to insist that the boy would be a member of court only, but the princess continued to assert that as the child of an agent for the bureau, he had a responsibility to learn the life of a trained agent first and then, should he decide that it was important . Leopold stared wide-eyed at the others and remained silent in his mother's arms. He was always fascinated by the interactions of the vast array of personalities here in such a sterile environment. Nuala felt him place a hand on her chest and he turned to lay against her. She shifted uncomfortably and grasped Abe's hand for reassurance. "We should begin research on Assyrio-Babylonian creatures to be prepared for anything he might be conjuring."

"We're not even sure if Rasputin was the one Meyer's saw. It was through binoculars and at a great distance in a snowstorm," Manning corrected. "We're just going to send you two up there to check things over and make sure that nothing horrible is on the horizon for us."

"There is always something horrible on the horizon for _us_," Liz muttered unhappily. She turned and looked at Red then smiled. "That's why we've got the big guns on hand."

"There will be no weapons that can be used against anyone in the service of Nergal or his minions," Nuala said softly. Abe turned and looked at her with concern. She pulled her hand away, not wanting him to see her deeper fears as they surfaced in her mind. Abe frowned. "I do not foresee that kind of evil rising against us any time soon."

"Well, no offense, but you're not exactly entitled to give pertinent information about, well, anything for the time being," Manning corrected, still a little peeved for having the she-elf and her child at the bureau without proper paperwork or limitations put on them to keep them out of meetings. Abe shot him the most angry look he could manage as Nuala lowered her head. Leopold placed a hand on her cheek and whispered something to her. Manning ignored the child's voice, oddly resonant in the room. "You two will leave at 0800 hours. Comprende'?"

"I'm telling you, this is a waste of time," Red muttered.

"And I think we would do well to explore all possibilities for the time being," Krauss corrected. "Be ready to disembark first thing in the morning."

"Perfect," Red groaned. Liz placed her hand gently on his arm as they stood to leave. He put his arm around her and softly patted her side. "At least there's still a few hours before lift-off."

"_Are_, Red, there _are_ a few hours left," Abe said half to himself as he took Nuala's hand gently. Leopold looked up at his father as Nuala rose. "Come, Nuala. You look troubled."

"Are you going with them, Abraham?" she asked. Her eyes moved nervously to and fro as she waited for the answer. Leopold shared his mother's concern, but seemed to harbor a little more excitement in his enormous eyes.

"I cannot handle those temperatures. Red and Dr. Krauss will be on their own this time, I'm afraid," he replied. Nuala gave a soft sigh of relief and gripped his hand a little more tightly. Abe smiled, enjoying the she-elf's presence now more than ever. The thought of losing her to a war with evil that was beyond her people was mortifying. She still seemed a little distant; even with Leopold safely cradled in both arms she appeared as timid as the day they had met after being reminded of the presence of creatures like Rasputin. This time Nuala was afraid of something very dark and very real, more dark and perhaps more real than her brother. He led the way back to the library. There were questions that needed answering and perhaps that would soothe them both. He watched the princess find her way to the bookshelf filled with the tomes of the greater English poets. He gazed in silent adoration as her delicate, pale hands selected a large, green volume containing the works of Browning. Leopold lovingly stroked the cover and then turned back to his mother muttering '_maeie mauat_, _maeie(_i)'. She looked at Leopold a little unhappily.

"Why do you not say 'peace' or 'calm' if that is what you mean, little one?" Nuala asked her son. Leopold frowned at her and suddenly dropped his head against her chest, continuing to mutter the strange words. She sighed heavily and set the book on her lap in front of him as she looked up at Abraham. "This phase is not as short lived as Dr. Krauss predicted. I worry that he will never learn another tongue as long as he lives."

After the boy had expressed a curiosity for the new language (following an instance of spending quality time with the twins and Uncle Red), Abraham had taught his son a little of the _Naa'vi(_ii) tongue only to find that the boy would speak nothing else in the coming months. Leopold had searched all the materials his father had acquired on the subject and, possessing a similar gift to his father's, took to the words and manner of speaking like a fish to water or rather like a fish to an elf. The boy seemed to have an affection for the language that Abe could not quite understand and it was growing a little irritating for the princess to be unable to communicate at all times with the boy. Dr. Krauss had proposed that this was a developmental phase and that Leopold might have identified with the _Naa'vi_ because they were the only beings he had ever seen that looked vaguely like his father. The Nuala hadn't chastised Red for the viewing of the film(iii) when she and Liz had spent some time speaking quietly in the library while he watched all three children including his own, but she did harbor a tiny measure of resentment for it after its lasting effect on her son.

"Well, he's still quite young and he is exposed to literature and languages from many regions," Abe said reassuringly.

Nuala sighed and kissed the boy's head tenderly Abe lovingly touched the blonde halo on his son's head with one hand and the pale hair on his wife's. She smiled peacefully at him, relieved no matter what to be in the presence of someone so strong in body and mind. He smiled back and watched her fluidly open the book and flip past a few pages, her fingers grazing the edge of each poem as if dancing with the lyrics. He marveled at the lyrical quality in her voice as she recited to Leopold. The boy sighed, smiled, and closed his eyes as he rested against his mother. Abe felt truly warmed by this sight and the feel of them both. Red was right, he was in love. He knelt beside them, calculating exactly how much time he had left before he had to return to water for a short time. Questions could be asked and answered later. Now, it was time for more pleasant things.

(i "Maeie mauat, maeie" pronounced _mah-__**way**__-uh mah-what, mah-__**way-**__uh_. Naa'vi: 'be calm, mother, be calm'.

ii Naa'vi: race of individuals indigenous to Planet Pandora known for appearing tall, blue, and muscular.

iii AVATAR)


	5. 4 Blood and Snow

Chapter 4: Blood and Snow

The auxiliary team in Antarctica had been supplemented by a small Marine troop. Lead by an Officer Michael Connor, the group had been sent to investigate the odd building amidst an even more odd group of buildings that had recently been noticed by Agent John Meyers. During a snowstorm, the agent had been stranded and claimed he had heard a strange and somewhat familiar voice. He had tried to use the binoculars to pinpoint through the snow who was speaking a distance away. He swore to the rest of the team that he had seen the form of Grigory Rasputin, an old foe of the bureau, and that immediate action was necessary. The bureau felt it best to act on behalf of caution for the moment at the bequest of the still wary Dr. Manning at the mention of the sorcerer's name. The troop moved slowly and cautiously through one of the buildings split into two groups. The Omega group, the second, had split three ways, each of the soldiers heading off in a different direction to further explore the silent building. The first two wandered into the farthest reaches on the left side of the compound, finding nothing. On the other side of the building, the officer that had gone to the right pulled out his flashlight as well. Unlike his companions on the left side, he had been able to distinguish the outline of a door with a small, square handle to open it from the outside. As he pulled it open, he shone the light on its contents and peered in carefully. His eyes narrowed at the sight of a strange creature. It must have been a rodent before it had been killed and permitted to float ominously in a jar of formaldehyde. He scoffed at the room, noting that it was merely a tiny broom closet with a singular shelf containing only the unfortunate mammalian remains. He slammed the door shut and turned to keep moving. He suddenly felt every muscle in his body grow rigid and painful. He grunted and realized that he could not move, at all. Nothing in his body, not even his eyes would respond at the moment. He tried to form a scream or cry for assistance. Maybe a neurotoxin of some kind had been triggered to release into the air when someone opened the door to the closet. He grunted more loudly and suddenly detected the presence of something, or rather, someone else.

"I suppose yours will do until I can find him. It will make a good replacement and punishment to have it beating in his chest when I exchange them," a raspy old voice hissed from behind him. The officer felt the volume dial on his vocal chords switch suddenly to 'off'. He struggled all the harder with his limbs. A searing pain formed in his chest. A scream formed with the searing, but he was completely unable to share it. The pain grew and grew until the room changed from icy to entirely frozen and from dark to pitch black. Had the man still been able to hear, he would have heard Rasputin laughing, grasping his beating heart in one hand and admiring it before placing it in his own chest. "Now," he said, very pleased with himself, " . . . It is time to find Prince Nuada."

(*)

Red shuddered, a familiar dislike of the bitter cold coming over him. When he had been here before, he had at least had the thought of Liz being interested in someone else to keep him distracted. He glanced around the snow covered landscape as Dr. Krauss gave a few orders to the pilots and escorts. The loud roar of an engine filled the air. They had arrived in the Antarctic at about noon the day after receiving orders. Neither had been pleased about leaving the bureau to thwart such an enemy, but Hellboy thought that it might give him further closure to finish off the Russian a second time. Red and Krauss turned to see a large bureau transport heading towards them. Red sighed inwardly. With any luck, this would prove to be an oversight or an over-reaction and he could get back to Liz as quickly as possible. Thinking that he was a father made him want other things; a home, a real life. He would need to talk with Liz about something that had troubled him; maybe it was time to leave the bureau for good. He couldn't see himself continuing to raise a child under the same circumstances that he had been subjected to. His father had been human and able to intercede, who would listen to him when it came down to it? The transport came to a halt in front of them. The team had been told that, aside from the exploration of the explosion site, the team was to go with Officer Michael Connor and the rest of his team to search for a missing soldier. The Marine had gone missing the day before and none of the rest of the small reconnaissance group had been able to find him or anything resembling him. Red could make out the familiar sight of a scrawny, dark haired young man walking hurriedly towards them. Even in full-winter attire that made him look more bear than human, Meyer's features were unmistakable to the demon.

"I thought you were going to be here tomorrow," he said as the two agents with him hurried to catch up. Meyers extended a hand warmly. Surprised, Red accepted it and gripped it for a moment. "I didn't think you'd agree to come up here so easily," the youth replied with a wink.

"I didn't. I'm under orders," Red replied with irritation as he nodded toward Krauss. "Agent Meyers, Dr. . . ."

"Johann Krauss, leading expert in ectoplasmic research and development," Meyers said. Red looked at him in even greater surprise as he extended a hand to the clothed entity. Krauss accepted it, giving a Prussian greeting and acknowledgement to the youth. Meyers turned and began walking back towards the transport. "How do you like scenery?"

"I'm loving it," Red commented as they headed for the transport. "Your tan's coming in great."

The young man laughed, trying his best to seem like an old friend reunited with a partner as they climbed into the vehicle. The driver nodded as the rest of the team loaded back into the transport and they departed for the base. Two of the other agents handed Dr. Krauss an envelope with papers detailing the events and observations of the past few days.

"Explosion, it happened about four days ago," Meyers yelled over the roar of the engine. "When we went to check it out we found the remnants of what appeared to be a bomb. Near it were the remnants of the poor suckers that set it off. I assume you know about the disappearing settlement trick. They had some stuff on them that didn't disappear, though; information about those power line things like Stonehenge and the pyramids and so on. They also had some pretty peculiar stuff about bringing up some sort of unstoppable army to be at the command of a Babylonian war-guy. That same symbol that had been on Rasputin's book and that wall were there as well. We figured we could use some input that's more equipped in handling the big stuff. Weird names, weird theories; Abe would've had a hay-day with this."

"That's nothing. We've been dealing with elves and one of them is a total head case hippie type. He makes those animal rights junkies look sane. King of the realm, too. Can you believe that? I thought they belonged here making toys or something, but apparently they took environmentalism to a militant level at some point," Red remarked with a laugh. He withdrew a cigar from one pocket and lit it casually. As he looked back into Meyer's eyes he saw no amusement at the comment. Instead, concern that seemed to fit two violent pieces of a bloody puzzle together. "Still, Abe's happy with them and as long as he's happy I'll leave the little scheister alone."

"Language please, agent Hellboy," Krauss said firmly. Meyers continued to stare at Red anxiously.

"Prince Nuada?" he asked. Red froze, the match in his fingers still burning as he stared back at the younger agent. "You crossed Prince Nuada of Bethmoora?"

"You were briefed that in depth of the situation in New York and Antrim, yet you sound surprised. Why?" Krauss asked with interest.

"No, not surprised. I'm afraid he might be in danger is all," Meyers answered looking from Krauss to Red as if he was the sole bearer of terrible news. Red extinguished the match, still staring at the boy as they waited for him to finish. "It's just, that name and a little of that same story were in the plans we found."

"Which means what to us?" Red asked with a shrug.

"He may be involved," Meyers replied. A cold that was in no relation to the bitter climate settled over the demon and, strangely, over the entity as well. "Really involved."

It had took only an hour for the team in Antarctica to get to their base, regroup with a few other agents, and head out to the area where the remnants of the explosion had been found. Meyers related that they had been experiencing some pretty nasty storms over the past few weeks and that the winds had probably interfered with their being able to hear any disturbances. As Red and Dr. Krauss waited patiently in the vehicle with Meyers, Krauss looked over the photos retrieved with great interest.

"Did anyone note this smoldering insignia?" Krauss asked pointing to one of the photographs. Meyers leaned forward and studied it for a moment. "I do not recognize it entirely and a portion of it seems to be melted away."

"Someone made mention of it, but we really can't be sure what it is with so much of it missing like that," Meyers explained.

"It belongs to Zinco Enterprises run by a man with a whole lot of money and a whole lot of crazy," a firm, rough, and loud voice announced from the back flap entrance to the truck. Three men, led by an enormous young man entered the vehicle and took the empty seats. The young man obviously in charge pulled off his dark goggles and turned to Red with a nod of admiration. Red guessed that by this man's defined musculature obvious even under layers of parka, his bald head barely hidden under a wool cap, his stern expression, and naturally loud voice that he was military of some kind. He was shorter for such an intimidating person; Marines. "Officer Michael Connor, United States Marine Corps," the man stated proudly as he extended a hand to the demon. Red smiled and accepted, congratulating himself silently on the correct assumption. For not wanting to be judged, Red found himself able to judge others quite accurately based totally on outward appearance. "Agent Meyers has explained that you're here to help us deal with the crazy part."

"The Marines can't handle crazy?" Red asked with a laugh.

The man lifted a brow in amusement as Meyers shook his head. "Officer Connor doesn't have your sense of humour, Red," Meyers said with a sigh. "He's also jumping to conclusions about that symbol. We can't file it as an official suspicion until we have a copy of it that's 75 percent intact."

"And what percent, exactly, brought Hellboy out here?" Connor retorted. He turned and nodded toward Red. "No offense."

"The findings point to a previous enemy Agent Hellboy has faced," Krauss explained. "Hopefully the real enemy is that Zinco you just mentioned and not Rasputin."

"Rasputin? You're kidding right? Meyers has you guys believing that crap, too?" Connor said looking at each of the three BPRD members in turn. He sighed heavily and sat back against the wall of the truck as it began to move out into the snow. Red frowned at him as he crossed his arms and looked at the rest of his men in uniform. "Man, oh, man; I'm gonna have a ton of fish stories after this pow-wow."

The team rode in silence, everyone pretending to either look at the floor or the bitter landscape. The demon sighed and shuddered inwardly. Part of him truly wished that Liz were here to keep him comforted and the other was very grateful that she wasn't having to suffer through this kind of torment. He shook his head and glanced at Meyers who was going over the paperwork once more. Johan was one of the few pretending to watch the landscape and was chatting with Meyers indirectly, adding a comment to the youth's findings aloud every now and again. Johan scooted to the edge of his seat quickly and he pointed a robotic finger at an opening in one of the tarp-covered windows.

"Achtung! What on earth is that?" Johan exclaimed. Meyers and the other agents turned as the Marines took a more firm hold on their weapons. The entity suit was pointing directly at a smoldering set of buildings surrounding a large stone building. Meyers narrowed his eyes, noting that the same symbol on the side of the largest building was the replica of the symbol that Johan had pointed out on the photograph. "Is that the missing facility?"

"I don't believe it," Meyers said with a frown. "It's back."

"That's a bingo. Zinco enterprises, my jurisdiction now," Connor said as he cocked the loading area on his semi-automatic. "Let's get this buggy to the doorway so I can pile on the dead guys, I mean, bad guys."

"I could have sworn that we saw a swastika on that building when we saw it before," Meyers added. He nodded towards Red. "Connor isn't the only one in charge, if Zinco is working with Rasputin, you'll need to keep him alive for us."

"Hey, what happens out there happens, if he falls onto a bullet or a grenade or two it's not on me," Red replied with a snarl. He was being dragged into a frozen hell to face the sadistic cretin that had harmed Liz, tried to enslave him, and killed his father? Keeping him alive was not high on the demon's 'to-do' list no matter what headquarters wanted. The group exited the transport with the Marines shouting orders and replies while the agents of the bureau stood alongside and observed quietly.

Meyers frowned and furrowed his brow at the scene. He watched as Red withdrew a large, brown cigar and lit it. "Those things will kill you," he scolded.

"Nah, I wasn't the one the Surgeon General was warning on his little part of the label," he replied with a puff and a shrug. Meyers coughed and gave him a look of disapproval. The demon noted the expression and took the smoldering tube of cancer from his mouth and held the hand grasping it aloft defensively. "What?"

"Smoking is a disgusting habit supported by tobacco lobbyists trying to get kids to get hooked early so they're loyal even on their nursing home oxygen tanks," Meyers answered angrily. Red's eyes went wide for a moment and he immediately tossed the cigar into the snow with a soft hiss. Meyers shook his head. "Littering isn't good, either."

Red suddenly realized that, from this point on, he would need to be concerned about setting examples and dealing with other things parents would normally think about on a daily basis. Smoking was forbidden for him at the bureau and anywhere near Liz for now. Not only was this something the demon had found difficult, but Liz had recently informed him that if he hadn't quit by the end of the year, then he would not have peace in his home for the rest of his natural life. Red puffed out the last cloud of fumes as some of the military personnel slipped into one of the odd peripheral buildings and the rest entered the central one. He pulled his coat more tightly around him and wandered toward the central facility, followed closely by Krauss and Meyers. The building was dark inside and more than silent. Red could have sworn that the very air seemed to be afraid to make itself known. The two marines that had entered the building ahead of them each split off into opposite hallways, motioning for the agents to follow the officer headed for the left. The three followed, trying to take inventory of what lay around them. The walls and floors were bare and dark. It was odd that they could tell that nothing was present even in the darkness. The officer in front sighed heavily and pulled a flashlight from his belt.

"Is this really what we came here to see? There's nothing in this building, not even rooms," Red muttered. The officer shook his head as they continued. He shone the light over the hallway before them and the walls around them. The demon was right; even the outline of doorways was undetectable here. The group moved cautiously and quickly into the deeper portion of the building. Meyers felt his gut sinking at the silence and emptiness around them. None of this was a good sign. His fears were realized only five minutes later when the team entered the rightmost entrance and began to explore. The group stared in horror at the sight of the fallen Marine they were searching for and watched as the rest of the group, his comrades included, did their best to do what is always necessary in such situations without the emotions it was clear they wanted to express.

"Caucasian, male, age 36, name Emmett Worth, rank lieutenant second class United States Marine Corps," one of the agents read aloud into a recording device as the rest of the team and the angry surviving officers watched. The agent looked him over once more and grimaced at the sight of the trickle of blood frozen across his chin and throat that had poured forth shortly before he breathed his last. His face was twisted in pain and horror, eyes still ablaze with fear. Had the agents been able to see clearly into the last image etched on the man's eyes, they still would not have been able to clearly see the murderer. Meyers shook his head and turned away as the agent cleared his throat, drew in all that was left of his constitution, and spoke clearly. "Cause of death, sudden removal of the heart. Entrance wound seems to be on the dorsal portion of the left lateral first five ribs; no damage to ventral thoracic region or any other areas of the body. Wound seems to have been made manually; signs of tearing exhibited on the entire circumference of the entrance wound imply that the killer used a clawed hand to . . ."

"Enough, already! Jeez!" Red suddenly exclaimed. The team and Marines turned to him in surprise as he rubbed his head. He had seen his fair share of horror films and had even walked through gooey human remains after the prince's tooth-fairy stunt in New York, but to see a soldier lying on the floor in front of him out here with a gaping hole in his back was too much for the moment. "We get it, already. Someone ripped out his heart and left the rest of him behind. For crying out loud, we don't need a play by play of what probably happened."

"That's enough for right now, Agent Shale," Meyers said with a wave. He turned to Officer Connor and frowned. "I guess we should probably radio for back up."

"Probably," Connor muttered. He reached down for the radio at his belt. "_Workshop_ this is _Father Christmas_, do you copy?"

Meyers walked over to Red who was leaning against the wall looking unsettled. It was unusual to see a demon looking so upset, especially over the corpse of a fallen stranger. Meyers knew that Red was no ordinary demon and that the agent had a strong stomach. Why was this bothering him? Red had found it difficult over the past two days to contemplate mortality. First, having receiving the wound from the prince had thrown his own weaknesses into sharp focus; then, to find out that he would soon be facing an old and certainly most abominable enemy as the father of twins made things seem all the more fragile for him. He shook his head and rubbed his brow, trying to think of the mission and not the life that had just been lost. Meyers placed a hand comfortingly on his shoulder. Red turned to him slightly and sighed.

"You alright?" he asked as quietly as possible.

"Life's gotten pretty complicated lately," Red explained. He turned back to the sight of the corpse, winced, and turned away. "And then there's the thought of every complication disappearing all at once, too."

"You and Liz alright?" Meyers asked with greater concern.

"_Workshop_, do you copy?" Officer Connor said more loudly. There had been no reply, not even static over the radio and even the hardened Marine was beginning to grow impatient and anxious. "_Workshop_, this is _Father Christmas_. We need a hand out here, do you copy?"

"Yeah, we're fine it's just . . ." Red frowned and shrugged his shoulders. He supposed there wouldn't be a good time to tell the youth that had once had an eye for Liz that she was now not only married in secret to the demon, but mothering his children as well. Meyers looked up at the demon expectantly, genuine concern for them both in his eyes. A good friend, Red thought. He breathed deeply. "Liz is going to be . . ."

"Base camp is experiencing technical difficulties, gentlemen," Officer Connor announced loudly. Everyone turned to him as he shoved the radio back into its holster. "Let's head back as quickly and carefully as possible. Meyers, you and the freaks keep to the rear. The last thing I want to do is have to jump in and save Hellboy from enemy fire."

"I somehow doubt that would ever be a concern," Krauss remarked as the group began to move out of the building. One of the officers carried his comrade's remains to the vehicle soberly as the others got in their respective transport positions. Krauss watched Red enter the vehicle with concern of his own. It was not unusual for the agent to interrupt someone in the middle of something important, but it was unusual for him to be so set off by something as simple as a dead stranger. He watched Meyers take his seat beside them with apprehension. Clearly, Red was sensing something, or being affected by something, that no one else could understand.

"Officer Birch, let's move out," Connor shouted to the driver as he entered the vehicle and sat down with a heavy thud. He groaned and shook his head. "I hate this weather. Can barely get a signal through to a man two feet away after the sun goes down."

"That may be due in part to the enormous amount of magnetism in this part of the world, Officer," Krauss explained. Red rolled his eyes, feeling like he had brought along an 'Abe droid' with just as many boring facts to give to as many people as possible. Still, it was comforting to have a companion that seemed familiar at the moment. As Krauss continued to rattle off specifics of the affect of the poles on electronics, the vehicle began to speed forward away from the buildings. "So when the signals are emitted to a device that is located perpendicular to its transmitter . . ."

**BOOM!**

A loud crash filled the air as the vehicle lurched forward, met with a solid object, and suddenly jarred backwards all at once. The passengers shouted in surprise, the militant passengers grabbing hold of their firearms instinctively. Connor leapt out of the vehicle, followed closely by the surviving officers. Meyers frowned and hurried after them with Krauss and Red not far behind. He gasped and coughed as smoke filled the air.

"What'd we hit?" Meyers asked loudly.

Before anyone could answer, the scraping of metal and whirring of gears suddenly met them. The group did not recognize this sound and it was most certainly not anything in the vehicle's technology trying to come back together. Through the smoke, an enormous figure began to move toward the group, its large form becoming more clear and frightening by the second. The Marines raised their weapons, locking them into a position for immediate damage. Red, Meyers, and Krauss stared back at the mechanized creature moving towards them. It appeared to be what Red might have called a giant, rock 'em sock 'em robot. As it grew even closer, Krauss could detect the chamber at its midsection covered in plate glass. He gasped, realizing that there was a human head floating in the fluid behind the glass. The head belonged to a person he had only heard of in stories and had hated passionately.

"No way," Meyers muttered in terror.

"Meinn Gott," Krauss whispered. "Karl Rupert Kroenen."


	6. 5 Presently Capital

Chapter 5: Presently Capital

Titania had insisted that they go at once to see Abraham and the odd lilac glow in her eyes had told Nuada that this was an unyielding need, one very much tied to her position as the Ostara. He had led them back out of the forest, telling a few of the woodland creatures to send word back to the palace that Puck and Wink were to meet them at the edge of the forest within a minute. While all of the creatures found this demand a little on the unreasonable side, they recognized the prince being out of sorts with anxiousness and this meant that there was no time for him to consider whether or not something was reasonable. He made their journey as slow as possible to allow time for his two most trusted vassals to meet them. He also did his utmost to try and pry from the girl, gently, what the symbol she had seen meant. She refused, continuing to shake her head and mutter that 'Abe' needed to see it. He felt a twinge of sheer anger at the amphibian yet again. The fish-man had complete sway over his sister, nephew, and now he was meddling silently in the mind of his beloved. The fleeting thought that Titania had once also been in love with Abraham crossed his mind, too frightened of his own reaction to last in his thoughts for very long.

"You called, sire?" Puck asked, appearing in front of the two as they neared the edge of the forest. Nuada stared in disbelief at the pwca as he raised himself on his haunches and bowed. He heard Wink grunt and grumble in the troll tongue. The prince smirked and turned, acknowledging his closest companion as he joined them. Titania eyed Wink nervously. She had never quite become comfortable with the troll, but then she tried desperately to attribute that to having not spent nearly the time around him that the prince had. "Come, my friends. We have a pressing need to speak with the Americas, with the Bureau of Paranormal Research and Defense."

"Are you sure that is necessary, sire?" Puck asked, still loathing the idea of going back to the city of New Jersey. He had only met with only bad experiences in the city save for Titania's birthday and even that had a somewhat bitter note to it. He shuddered and scratched one ear pensively with a paw as Nuada nodded resolutely. The rabbit fairy sighed heavily. "We should be off as quickly as we can, then."

"Wink, come along. I won't go before them again without an escort given the circumstances for our visit," Nuada said firmly. Titania looked at him in concern. They were not going to the bureau to deliver something unpleasant; she merely needed to share this information with Abe. Was there something Nuada wasn't telling her? She shook her head and followed, grasping his hand as they moved forward. The prince waved his hand slowly through the air, summoning the energy in the forest around them. He could feel the magic of the area tingling at his fingertips as he commanded a portal to open and willed it to happen in front of them. As he lowered his hand, Titania and the others watched a rippling, dark circle appear, waiting for all of them to enter. She sighed heavily and grasped his hand more tightly. Nuada had grown even more skilled in opening portals and using them through the past three years, but Titania still felt quite mortal and fragile when using them. He had assured her that this would pass, but part of her did its best to keep this fragility in order to have reason to cling to him.

And now, more than she had in the past three years, Titania felt the urge to cling to him. He could almost feel himself breathing for her she was clutched so tightly against his chest. The darkness that had enveloped them surged and ebbed, giving way to light and shapes that were soon very recognizable to Titania. The girl felt a relief at being here in the library that surpassed even the forest for the time being. She had found sanctuary here while visiting her father and now she was in need of something else entirely that most of the other visitors to the library sought . . . answers. Wink shook himself and grunted unhappily as Puck edged closer to Nuada, placed a paw on his leg defensively, and then moved forward to check their surroundings more carefully. As safe as the area must have been, Puck felt it his duty to be the first aware of any danger.

"_Tsa-hik(_i)!" the group heard a small voice shriek. Happy laughter followed it along with the proverbial 'pitter-patter' of Leopold's steps running toward his uncle. "_Tsa-hik_!" Nuada turned in time to catch the child in both arms and lift him effortlessly. Leopold had Nuala's small frame and his father's trim musculature even at such a young age. The boy smiled eagerly and touched one hand to his brow before touching his uncle's. "_Oel gnati kemeie(_ii), _Tsa-hik_."

Nuada's happy expression at seeing his nephew lessened at the boy's words. He glanced at Titania who smiled a little and shook her head. They had both visited shortly after this 'phase' had begun and it was wearing more on the less present Nuada than on his parents. The king of the magical realm was silently furious with his sister for never having shown her son the forests of their home, Bethmoora Palace, or Erin. She had taught him much of their tongue, but had raised him primarily with the common English that Abraham spoke. Worse, she refused to train the boy for a position in court. In her heart, Nuada had seen that she feared Leopold would follow the path of either her father or her brother; dejected and diminuated by complacency or consumed and crushed by anger. The Prince who was king had considered confronting her more sternly about this obvious betrayal to her race and their family, but Nuada had hoped that the oddities the boy was exhibiting would have been enough to shake her out of her fear and to start training him properly. Sadly, it had only distracted her and made her more insistent on teaching Leopold his father's world. He sighed heavily and watched as Nuala and Abraham made their way into the main portion of the room where the group had appeared. Abraham seemed to become tense at the sight of the prince and the troll, but his concern was drawn more toward Titania and he gazed directly at her inquisitively, hoping to draw from the air around them some clue as to why they were making such a 'formal' visit.

"Sister, your son, is out of sorts . . . still," Nuada said as he placed Leopold on the ground and turned him toward his mother. Leopold frowned and looked up at his uncle sadly. He wasn't sure how, but he sensed that he had displeased him somehow. Simultaneously sensing the boy's sorrow, Nuada patted his shoulder affectionately, reassuringly. This was enough to make the boy's smile re-appear and he hurried off toward his mother and father, saying something else in the odd tongue before Nuala gestured toward the rest of the library. The boy nodded and hurried off in the direction she had pointed. Nuala turned and looked at her brother with disapproval to match his own.

"Out of sorts, brother?" she asked.

"Indeed," the elf replied flatly. "But that is not the purpose of our visit."

"What happened, Titania?" Abe asked quickly. He had been trying to determine what the odd glow in her eyes meant and was still, even with his empathy, unable to discern it. The girl moved forward and embraced him tightly without a word, closing her eyes and remembering what it had been like to have been just a child with an odd friend like Abraham . . . no, a perfect friend. She released him and turned to Nuala, nodding to her. The princess and the object of the prince's affection were still unsure of how to act around one another. Nuada had done his utmost to try and get the two into the same room as often as possible, but found that both were strangely reluctant. Abe took both Titania's hands in his own, searching her mind. The lilac hue was all that he could make out and it troubled him. Was her magic somehow interrupting his gift? Without any warning, Titania grasped one of Abraham's hands firmly and looked into the amphibian's eyes; the orchid hue piercing him in a way he could not explain.

"There was a symbol, a symbol in the air around them. They did not know the symbol; they do not serve him . . . the serve one that seeks this symbol," she said softly. She was gazing directly at Abe, but her presence seemed to be focused elsewhere.

Although Abe could see the direction in which her pupils were focused, he would have sworn that she was looking right through him. She squeezed his hand and he suddenly sensed her request for paper and pen, something to take the symbol from her mind and make it available for all to see. Abe nodded and grasped her hand, reciprocating the small amount of his gift able to pass between them. He acknowledged neither Nuada nor the other two servants in the room as he took Titania and turned toward Professor Broom's old desk. He did, however, whisper softly to Nuala that he only needed a moment to resolve the situation. She nodded gracefully in return. As Abraham and Titania moved to the desk, Nuala turned to her brother and took three smooth steps toward him. The prince bowed his head and extended on hand, allowing her a chance to reach for him. She seemed distanced from him, aggravated by something that he could not quite measure above his own irritation with her improper behavior and, essentially, betrayal of their kind and throne. Nuada gently raised her hand to him and kissed the very back of it with the tenderness he wished to convey aside from the disappointments. The princess seemed to resist the gesture without word or movement, merely gazing down at her brother with an unyielding heat. He rose and frowned at her.

"What troubles you, sister?" he said softly. Wink and Puck turned away, beginning to find something else to focus their attention on as the prince and his sister confronted whatever consternation was between them for the time being. Nuala frowned and glanced past a few of the book cases, leaning so that she could see the form of Leopold curled up on one of the antique stuffed lounges that Broom had used to line the library comfortably. He held a large, old edition of 'Little Black Sambo' and was studying each rough picture with great delight. She turned back to Nuada and raised the left side of her smooth brow at her brother, silently telling him that he knew very well what troubled her. "If his behavior and refusal to identify with his own tongue are troublesome, then bring him to Bethmoora where he can learn of his own kind more properly."

"My son does not trouble me, brother," Nuala replied flatly. Nuada now raised his brow in like manner, knowing well that Leopold was at least part of the reason his sister felt aggravated. "You did not embrace him. No, and you have failed to embrace him or speak to him these past long months," she said firmly.

"I have been gentle with him, but I see no need to converse with him while he does not speak a tongue in which I can converse," the prince replied as calmly as he could. The issue had been one of the small issues making his life harder for at least eight months. Nula frowned all the more and now appeared to be fully glaring at him. "A situation, might I add, that would have been entirely avoided if you had begun training him properly."

"I see," Nuala said softly. Nuada recognized the airy-nature of her tone and knew that it was steam billowing off the flame behind her blood. She turned away and looked at her son as she spoke. "So you would speak to him if I forced him to learn all of our history, all of our tongue, and all of our protocols before he had begun to walk? That would resolve this?"

"It would not have harmed him for you to teach him of his home and family. He belongs in the forest. His native tongue is Geilege. His title will be Prince and Sentinel," the elf said firmly. Nuala frowned and closed her eyes, shaking her head slightly. "Sister, there will be no shielding him from it forever. He must learn to live as royalty. And by the time he has learned to wield a sword . . ."

"That will _**never **_happen," Nuala suddenly growled. The words were so guttural and the 'never' so harshly hissed, that even Wink winced at it and turned his attention momentarily to the display. Nuada felt his breath cease as Nuala seemed to seethe like a cat with back arched defensively. He allowed a moment of silence to pass between them in the hopes that his sister would be soothed and return to her natural serenity. She breathed deeply and relaxed her shoulders, but the harshness in her gaze toward her brother remained unchanged. She took one more step toward him, keeping her eyes fixed firmly onto his own. "I have seen nothing good come from the wielding of a sword, my brother. There is no real betterment in the raising of a spear," she continued. Nuada growled softly, but kept it well hidden. "And there is absolutely no good to be had with arrows and flails and daggers."

"I see," Nuada said. He folded both hands behind his back and began to calmly walk past his sister. "Then you fear that if he should raise a sword he would mourn like father; that if he took hold of a spear he would make war like me." As he was immediately beside her, he spoke very quietly and deliberately, noting that she was focused on Leopold and not wanting to acknowledge her brother's words. He sneered. "Although, perhaps you fear all the more that if he grasped a dagger . . . he would drive it deeply _**into his own chest**_."

At this, Nuala turned, and stared at her brother in shock. He had still not forgiven her selfish self-destruction. She shuddered at his words and gazed back at him as if the dagger had been plunged into her again, but this time by his hand. He frowned and walked past her to get a better look at Titania and try to get a more controlling hand on the situation by seeing the symbol first hand. Puck hopped forward and placed a hand comfortingly on the princess's skirt. She frowned and hurriedly walked over to where Leopold sat. She scooped him up into her arms and, without disturbing his focus on the book, wrapped him in her arms and watched her husband, brother, sister-in-law, and the strange vassals that followed them, gather around the desk. Titania was focused, very focused, on carefully etching something onto a sheet of paper that Abraham had placed in front of her. Nuada stepped to Titania's side and looked down at the paper intently. Abe's gills twitched anxiously as he watched as well; it disturbed him that he couldn't read the girl's thoughts or anything passing through her mind whatsoever. There were no instances that he could remember, until meeting Nuala, that he had not been able to read anyone else's thoughts or intentions. It frightened him more than being in Bethmoora palace and facing off against the golden soldiers.

Titania breathed heavily, her focus a force that she could neither control nor explain. She felt the pen in her hand, but she felt the symbol in her mind even more. With each furious stroke, she felt a small amount of this being relieved as if the symbol's burden was seeping out as she wrote. It reminded her of some of the wounds that she had incurred when first meeting Nuada being soothed. The pain would slowly dissipate and the skin would return to a normal state just as the symbol was dissipating and her thoughts were returning to normal. She finally felt the last trace of the symbol pulsing through her mind. It amused her inwardly to realize that she was feeling the flow of spiritual energy through her blood just as Des Carte`s had described so very long ago and been scorned for; the transmission of something more than just blood. She felt the last strain of magic energy moving from her temples out through her jugular and right into her heart; from each right chamber of her heart and into her lungs as she drew in a choppy breath; then finally back to the left heart and out the aorta flowing into her hands. With the last stroke of the pen, Titania closed her eyes with relief and Nuada's eyes widened in shock.

"This is impossible," the prince muttered. Abe turned and looked at him inquisitively. Sensing her brother's sudden recognition of the symbol, and recognizing it herself through his mind, Nuala leapt to her feet and startled Leopold into shrieking softly and clutching the book to himself. She hurried over to where the group had gathered around the desk. Puck and Wink, hovering a little closer than either had intended, backed away instinctively and allowed the princess to gaze more fully at the paper. The symbol that Titania had drawn on the paper in great detail, in the manner of many studio animators with several lines where one thick line should have been, displayed a wyvern rearing back with its wings extended upward. Nuala gasped as well, seeing the symbol more fully. Nuada shook his head and reached out, gripping Titania's hand tightly. "There must be a mistake."

"I recognize that symbol," Abraham said. Nuada glanced at him while Titania leaned against her beloved and sighed heavily. "That symbol has been used repeatedly on the covers of many books."

"Beowulf," Nuala whispered. Abe smiled and looked at her.

"Yes, exactly. That is the very symbol of nearly every edition of Beowulf. I'm surprised that you're familiar with Danish literature, but I suppose that era is precisely . . ." Abe began to explain.

"Not the work of fiction, you fool, Beowulf," Nuada interjected firmly. Abe and Titania turned to him, confused. The prince seemed to think that the amphibian should know more about the name than just the old ballad and the feats of strength described in detail to Hrothgar in the great halls of ancient Europe. Nuada reached out another hand and gently touched the edge of the wyvern's wing. "It has been too long since we have heard that name, sister. Beowulf, our uncle."

"Your Uncle?" Titania asked in confusion. The princess lowered her head sadly. Nuada moved forward, appearing to be trying to find the right words to explain a painful situation. "Your mother's brother or your father's brother?"

"Our father's brother," Nuada answered.

"His _twin_ brother," Nuala added urgently. She shook her head and moved to stand beside her brother comfortingly. Pain similar to what was seen in mentioning his lost mother was ablaze on the prince's face. "It was a story that haunted my brother for all of our childhood after he learned to wield a sword."

"I did not know your father was a twin, I thought twins were quite rare in your kind," Abe said in amazement. He hadn't been able to see at all over the past few years, much about Nuala's past and family aside from Nuada. "I take it they were not on speaking terms in your childhood."

"He was dead before we were born," Nuada whispered. The room became ice cold at the prince's words as he lifted his eyes and stared into nothing.

"How?" Titania asked, growing almost impatient to hear another story from her future husband's past.

"Father killed him," Nuala interjected, sparing her brother the weight of having to explain. Titania and Abe gasped in horror as Nuala took her brother's arm and squeezed it tightly. "It was quite an accident. They were keen on testing one another's strengths between battles and were always willing to raise the bar a little higher each time. We're not sure what broke Uncle's concentration, but it gave father time to cleave him nearly in half at the waist. He held him in vain as he died."

"That's horrible," Titania said as she clasped a hand over her chest. Abe frowned and thought about Liz and the pain she had confessed to him every time she remembered accidently causing the death of her own brother as well. He thought of Nuala's pain and regret for having ever harmed Nuada. He met the prince's gaze, understanding the 'connection' he claimed Liz had to his family now more than ever. He shook her head and looked away as he began to speak again.

"Father did everything in his power to try and resurrect him, to ensure his rebirth, but alas Uncle Beowulf had already served his purpose it seemed. Since it appeared that his twin had been lost to the realm at the fault of his own blood, father took it upon himself to dole out the harshest punishment he could think of. It nearly killed our grandparents to find him after the deed had been done," Nuada explained with an added heaviness. "For taking the life of his other half, he cut away his left arm, all of it."

"Father was left-handed and Uncle was right-handed, they say," Nuala explained.

"But if your uncle is dead, then why would anyone use this symbol? Perhaps your uncle is not dead, or at least, someone wants you to believe that he isn't," Abe offered pointing to the parchment. Titania took it in both hands, lifting it deftly from the table as she clung to her beloved and squeezed his hand soothingly. "Furthermore, why would someone attacking the forest use this symbol? Your family has been guardians of the earth since time immemorial; why would anyone use this as a symbol of serving evil?"

"A distraction at the very least," Nuala reasoned. "Then again, it is perfectly possible that his rebirth was delayed while his twin served his purpose and since father was denied rebirth as an elf, Uncle Beowulf was granted his rebirth at that time."

"Then what do we do now?" Titania asked softly.

Nuada reached out and folded the paper, hiding the symbol from everyone's view but most importantly his own. She looked up at him in concern. Nuada looked toward Nuala, still holding Leopold. The boy looked at his uncle, distress forming in his eyes as he silently asked 'what is wrong with my mother?' in his gaze. The prince reached out and took the boy from his mother, embracing him tightly and kissing the crown of his golden-haired head. Leopold grinned and clutched his uncle's shoulders to him. After a moment had passed, the prince placed the boy back in his mother's arms. The twins exchanged glances of apprehension and sadness before Nuada turned back to Titania. "Come, we must speak to my father," he said softly.

(*)

(i Tsa-hik- Naa'vi title and position, spiritual leader and guidel, though usually female (pronounced Sah-heek)

ii Oel gnati kemeie- Naa'vi greeting, literally translated as "I see you, my soul sees your soul" (pronounced Wahl-g-nah-tee-kah-may-uh), intimate greeting used similarly to Aloha (hello, goodbye, I love you) or Namaste')


	7. 6 Kroenen's Return and Rhonzo's Kin

(( Dear Reviewer: I owe you a virtual cookie and a wish granted for pointing out the autumnal equinox information because it gave me a chance to go back and fix my cultural dyslexia error! The festival IS on the 21st, according to the US calendar I have, and it's Alban Elued or the Festival of the Sea, not Alban Eiler which could be considered next to Eostre as the festival of love-making! Ah, yes, the Goblin King. Oh, and by the way . . . you remind me of the babe.))

Chapter 6: Kroenen's Return and Rhonzo's Kin

"Open fire!" Connor yelled as he raised his weapon and did the same. The sound of repetitive shots bursting through the atmosphere and the smell of hot metal began turning the snow not forced away by the ammunition a sickening gray. Red grabbed Meyers by the shoulder, heaving him to the side and behind the remnants of the vehicle for protection. Meyers watched in amazement as the demon pulled out his Samaritan and opened fire as well, doing his best to hit the plate glass centre of the machine and put a bullet into Kroenen's head. All of the men present watched the machine move forward more quickly, unfazed by the firearms. Connor frowned and lowered his weapon. "Fall back, reload, NOW!"

Red looked more closely at the mechanic Kroenen and smirked. He turned to the retreating Marines and called loudly to the commander. "Stay back, I've got this one!" the demon shouted as he turned back to the robotic giant. "I've been waiting for another shot at this."

"Agent Hellboy, do not engage the enemy!" Krauss shouted as loudly as he could.

"Agent Krauss, do not interfere with a defensive maneuver!" Connor shouted in reprimand. "Marines, give him some cover!"

Red pushed through the snow and smoke, focused on doing as much damage to Kroenen as possible. He had truly enjoyed the last time he had dealt out a death blow to the Nazi and was sure that even this instance would not be permanent. Still, the act alone would make the frozen, useless hours they had spent here so far worth every moment of suffering. The ground was trembling as he approached Kroenen. The demon suddenly realized that Kroenen didn't have any weapons that he was firing. Why would anyone build a mechanized Nazi without at least a pea-shooter? Kroenen raised one, enormous hand and brought it down over the demon. Red jumped to the side and smiled, noting that his target had been left wide open. He drew back his stone fist and blasted it into the plate glass midsection. The glass hissed and buckled, but did not break. Red growled and tried to pull his hand free; it wouldn't budge.

"Oh, crap," he muttered. Kroenen smirked through his mangled and less than human lips as he turned, swinging the demon around with him. Krauss shook his head as the robot moved away from the crash site and back towards the buildings. "Don't worry, I've got it all under control!" he shouted back to the team. "Go ahead and get back to base, I'll handle him!"

"You think he's gonna get this by himself or should we offer a little assistance?" Connor asked sarcastically as he faced both Meyers and Krauss.

"Come on before his girlfriend finds out I let him out there alone," Meyers said with a heavy sigh.

(*)

On the other side of the world, the peaceful polar opposite to the situation in Antarctica, a small caravan began to stir from their peaceful sleep. Der Volkstein Traveling Entertainment, a Romany clan that had gathered together from six other familia who met in Munich. They had been joined about twenty years prior by a strange, little man and his ward, a young and pale girl with odd golden and white hair. The man, a Castilian Gitano named Rhonzo, had asked only to be added to the familia as a 'puryuria' and that his charge, the pale skinned, amber-eyed, and golden haired beauty named Lumeweiss, be allowed to accompany him in order to learn the ways of a choovihni. The Kris over the troop had fought the idea at first, but their own choovihni, Vashti, had seemed entranced by Rhonzo from the start and overturned their desire to send them away. Now, all the members of the caravan (which included Rhonzo and Lumeweiss) rose early in the morning to continue a trek toward Paris. Lumeweiss, a half elf maiden from days long forgotten by both humans and many elves, stirred very slowly and felt her breathing still troubled by a dream from the night before. Rhonzo, a hobgoblin of considerable years and Spanish Eccentricity that had managed to use magic to hide their identity from everyone in the caravan save for Vashti, entered her small sleeping quarters and spoke loudly, urgently.

"_Levantate, Lumeweiss, y movarte. Necesitamos a ir mas largo ahora," _he said firmly. Lumeweiss turned and looked up at him anxiously. The amber gleam of her eyes turned slightly blue, testifying to the fact that part of her mortality had been stirred. Rhonzo knelt immediately and placed both hands on her shoulders comfortingly. "_Porque' estas preocupado_?"

"I had a dream, Master Rhonzo," she whispered softly. He watched as her features began to tremble and tears began to form in her eyes. Rhonzo leaned even closer, now putting his hands on either side of her head and trying to silently assess the real issue. Lumeweiss drew in a deep breath and placed her hands over his. "I saw the prince . . . Prince Nuada . . ." she continued, panting between phrases as the horrible images of the dream began to come back more clearly. She shook madly and fell onto Rhonzo with the last few words of her explanation. "He is going to die!"

(*)

Red furiously swung at the mechanical Kroenen; trying to get a good swipe in as he desperately pulled at his stone hand attempting again and again to free it. The fluid behind the glass wasn't leaking out at all, telling the demon that his hand was in and in tight. He grunted and tried to move the stone fingers to make some kind of leverage with the hand in the glass. It wasn't cracking at all even with all the movement he and Kroenen were making. He started pounding the glass with the other hand while steadying himself against the rest of Kroenen's body.

"Aw, come on!" he shouted as they neared the old buildings they had just left. He noticed something strange as they stormed over the snow. While Red wasn't usually the one that noticed small details, this one seemed very important; tire tracks. They didn't look fresh and they certainly were not the ones left by the team a moment before. There had to be at least twenty vehicles and they all looked to be enormous and military grade. "What the . . .?" he muttered. For a brief moment he stayed perfectly still dangling from the machine. Whatever had killed the Marine had more planned than just this mechanical Kroenen. He feared that Meyers' message that the fear of Rasputin's return might have been true. He suddenly felt his hand slip slightly from the glass. A loud hissing came from the small opening left just as the rest of his hand fell free. "Crap!" he shouted as he fell to the ground. Kroenen marched over him a pace and then waited, looking into the collection of buildings with satisfaction. Red got to his feet as quickly as possible, steadying himself as his balance returned. His mind was still spinning somewhat as he pointed his stone hand angrily at the beast. "That's it, that is it! Now I'm pissed and you're my target."

"You are more arrogant than I would have expected after the prince's attack," an oily, familiar voice announced from several feet away. Red craned his neck to look behind him. He saw nothing but the buildings and the snow. Quickly, he turned in several directions still looking for the source of the last comment. It was definitely not Nuada's voice, but the only ones that had known about the incident with his injury had been members of the Bureau. _Who_ was this? "It is a pity the spear was removed. I would have truly relished ripping it from your body as it pierced your heart."

_Not possible_, Red thought to himself as the voice became all the more familiar and a name surfaced in his mind. "Rasputin," he whispered aloud.

"In the flesh, as you can see," the old sorcerer said with an icy laugh as he stepped out ceremoniously from behind a building. Green mist was still surrounding him ever so slightly with the black robes shifting in the Antarctic breeze. The hole that had been present several hours before was sealing shut slowly as the heart of the fallen Marine settled into his chest. Red couldn't see the tragedy solved, of course, but he did note that it was strange to see a dead man walking towards him. "I see that Kroenen has brought you in good order. Don't fear for your little friends, I merely wanted a word with you before departing."

Red was beginning to feel his head spinning and a strange sense of being exhausted in every muscle all at once moving through him. He groaned and gathered his strength into a rage as he stepped towards the dark sorcerer. He groaned and raised his fist as he lumbered forward. Rasputin twisted his thin, red lips into a sneer and allowed the demon to approach him. As Red brought his hand down onto what was meant to be the sorcerer's shoulder, Rasputin reached up and caught the stone in his own fist. Red was shocked at the strength in the smaller man; or perhaps it was the weakness forming in him. What could be making him feel so exhausted like this? As Rasputin held his hand aloft, Red noticed dark blood trickling down the man's arm, blood that was not coming from a wound on the pale Slav. Red felt his legs start to buckle and he dropped to his knees. Rasputin leaned over him, grinning triumphantly.

"I simply wanted to let you know that if you chose to accept my offer to rule this earth in a reign of fire and chaos, I will be close by and hard at work once you return home. If you are tired of the mortals, seek me out," Rasputin said in a raspy snarl. He dropped the demon's hand and stepped back. "Think quickly, I will not be as patient a second time!"

With the last few words, Red felt the world around him grow too dark and too cold. The layers of clothing and muscle were no longer enough to keep the cold outside away as cold began to overtake him from within. He groaned once more, trying to form words to counter the threat from Rasputin. Not even thoughts could form clearly now. He closed his eyes and tried to regain some shred of his magnificent physical prowess. He could barely hear the sound of Kroenen thundering off into the distance as his other senses grew dull. _A minute_, he thought_, I just need a minute to rest and then everything will be okay_. _Everything will be okay_ . . . He continued the mantra even in unconsciousness, a darkness that Red had experienced only once before in receiving the prince's wound. He wasn't sure just how much time had passed before he could hear his fellow agents and soldiers approaching. Red felt himself floating as he struggled to open his eyes. Maybe this was a nightmare and he would wake up beside Liz and their two children. Unfortunately, nothing in his body wanted to respond. Had he awakened too early? He had heard his father and Abraham discussing on a few occasions what it was like to wake up in the wrong phase of sleep and that some people (father included) found themselves paralyzed by it. He drew in a deep breath and then suddenly froze; he could hear voices.

"We need to get him back to base. It looks as though there was some damage to the radial vein," he heard one voice say.

"Is Agent Sherman still at the bureau?" he heard the unmistakable voice of Meyers ask. He groaned and struggled to sit up and answer the question. Yes, she was still at the bureau and no, she was not available! He found the smallest task took too much energy. He had never felt so exhausted before and even breathing seemed onerous to him for the time being. He relaxed as Johan's voice answered Meyers' question, trying to find an easier way to breathe.

"Agent Sherman-Broom resides in the bureau's new compound; she and Agent Hellboy were recently married and had two interesting children two years ago," Johan replied. Red could almost hear Meyers' heart sink at those words with a bitter happiness for his two friends churning behind a forced smile. "Dr. Manning does not believe in premarital cohabitation and required it. She is with their children, elsewise she would be here now."

"Kids? We've got to contact her and let her know about his condition while we get him back to the base," Meyers said urgently. Hellboy was surprised that the man was truly concerned more about his injuries than brooding over losing the girl. Then again, Meyers had been a good kid himself.

"We're not going back to base, not if that thing is on the move," Connor said firmly from some distance away. "We need to get back to the continental states and get some back-up while we create a plan. I'm not going after it blind and with only four Marines." He stepped closer to the fallen demon and looked from the red heap back to his two comrades. "And I don't think you can keep her at the 'bureau' if she knows how badly he got hit." The two couldn't argue with that, neither could they argue with the fact that they did indeed need more support and a plan of action. Connor turned and gestured to the rest of the group. "Load him up and move out. Get the air-gear over here. We're headed for Jersey."

As the demon was hoisted onto a rather large 'gurney' the men had fashioned into the air transport, he started repeating to himself what Rasputin had told him. The old sorcerer had said that he would be nearby and that the offer to rule the world with him was still open. What was the deal? Did the old man really think that he could persuade a demon with fairly good and definitely busy life to just drop everything and come play house for the Lords of Chaos on earth? Inwardly, he thought up a few things to say in response when they would cross paths again and they would cross paths again without a doubt. He frowned to himself and hoped that Abe and Liz were having a better time back at the compound. The cold was enough of a dose of misery, but bleeding and being rendered helpless by the creature that had murdered his father was just too much. Thinking about the 'normalcy and quiet' that his wife and best friend were enjoying was a little comforting. The demon allowed himself to rest at these images, entirely unaware of what waited for him in the states.


	8. 7 Girl Talk and Royal Information

Chapter 7: Girl Talk and Royal Information

Titania had not had time to say anything else to Nuada as they walked back through the portal trailed by Wink and Puck. She felt the magic seeping more fully from her eyes and she shook herself as the last little glow faded and she drew in a deep breath. They were not back in Bethmoora Forest. She furrowed her brow, recognizing that they were in one of the council rooms of the Fairy Court. She had been here only a few times before and always for something rather formal. She glanced around at the trappings of the room, paintings of the first members of the Sisterhood, tapestries of symbols and etchings of legends, a large round table with a centre hollowed out for a cauldron to be placed, and seats that resembled Asian ergonomic seats that she had seen in magazines as well as this council chamber. It was here that the Sisterhood gathered to speak with anyone that had need of their assistance or to talk amongst themselves about issues facing their world. She felt the air in the room shift as the Morrighan and the Clionatha entered. She felt a familiar hand grasp her arm and turned to smile at the figure grasping it. She quickly wrapped her arms around Liz and breathed deeply. Somehow having another member of this ancient and archaic crowd made things a little more simple to understand and accomplish. They were soon joined by the Modron and the Epona. All eyes filled with their lavender glow and they felt the presence of the most powerful member draw near the room. Puck hurried to the door and opened it ceremoniously for the Ceridwen. The Ceridwen turned to each sister in turn and smiled kindly. She walked over to Nuada and touched his chin affectionately.

"It is good that you have come, my prince. Your reign has proven most efficacious so far," she said proudly with a gentle smile. Titania was sure that she saw a giddy smile on her beloved's face as if he had received a gold star on a drawing he had given to his kindergarten teacher. The Ceridwen reached forward and softly kissed the side of the elf's face and then turned to Titania and Liz. "Aine' and Ostara, we continue to be blessed by your innocence and power. It is your dealings with mankind . . ." the Ceridwen looked directly into Liz's eyes, " . . . and ancient evils, that will be most useful to us now."

"Why are we here?" Liz asked anxiously. She had been forced to leave the twins with Nuala and Abraham. As much as she trusted the princess and her best friend, she didn't like the idea of being away from the twins for very long. Red had hoped that after their first birthday Liz would have become a little less protective, but as her instincts as the Aine' had grown, she had grown all the more protective. She knew now, however, that she could not ignore a summons from the Ceridwen and that is exactly what she had received in her mind before appearing in the council room. The Ceridwen turned to Puck and Wink and gestured toward the door. The prince shifted uncomfortably shouting something back to the two in the Troll tongue; Puck hesitated, but nodded. He grasped Titania's hand, kissed it gently, and then walked beside her toward the gathering of women as his servants hurried out of the chamber. Liz moved a little closer to the girl, glad to have someone of similar company in such an awkward location. The Ceridwen cleared her throat to address the others.

"My sisters, there is great unrest on earth. We have all sensed it, surely all of you have felt it in some manner or another," she stated flatly, waiting for the confirmation of one of the other sisters.

A faint breeze stirred behind the Modron's parchment-dress. She stepped forward and placed a hand on the table, worn and withered but filled with the wisdom every member of the sisterhood admired. She muttered something softly and suddenly a scroll unrolled from beneath her hands that Liz and Titania were sure hadn't been there before. The group of preternatural women gathered more closely to the central table and looked down. Etched on the scroll were odd markings in several different forms of handwriting and language. A few of the group gasped and the Ceridwen frowned. "The world of men clamber for the Golden Army; to possess it, to purpose it, to set it upon their enemies," the Modron said in a dry and unsurprised tone of disdain. She looked up at the rest of the group, her violet eyes burning with something familiar to Titania. She had seen this look before in only one other person; Prince Nuada upon first meeting him, it was a fierce look that spoke of a desire to thwart man's foolishness by destroying all humans nearby. Titania shuddered at the Modron's stare, quite nearly afraid that the old crone would lash out at Liz and herself. Instead, the Modron pointed down to the parchment once again. "War is upon us. The heads of the most powerful nations will do their utmost to attain the army," here she lifted her eyes and stared directly at Nuada, " . . . from you."

"But he doesn't have them," Titania protested. The Ceridwen frowned and looked at Nuada. The prince frowned as well and seemed to now exude shame from every cell within him, shame for something he had done against his beloved. Titania looked at him in confusion for a moment and then back to the Modron. "The crown was destroyed, the army is useless."

"I should know, I was the one that flamed up and torched it," Liz added, equally confused and instinctively concerned. "They can't just scrape up the gold, heat it up, make a crown out of it and use it again, can they? I mean, I thought magic like that is very unique and detailed."

"Indeed," the Clionatha said solemnly. "It took goblin-craft to re-forge the crown, but it is not entirely functional."

Titania and Liz stared at the sister in confusion for several minutes and then, as if in unison, felt a chill run through them. The chill stabbed Titania in the heart and cut deeply into the love that she had for the prince. She turned slowly to face him as the cut grew deeper and the pain began to surface in a magnitude she had never felt before. Liz turned and glared at him, flames beginning to flicker around her small frame. The prince took a step back, lowering his head slightly and looking at Titania pleadingly. He knew that she knew what he had done. It had been difficult enough to get his father to ignore the action, but he had hoped to speak to Titania about this only after their marriage. Unfortunately, the prince now saw that fate was a cruel and wicked creature with a twisted sense of humor. He could almost hear the malicious laughter as Titania gasped, tears forming in her eyes, and she stepped toward him.

"You didn't . . ." she whispered sadly. He frowned and averted his gaze as she took another step forward. She reached out one hand. "Please tell me you didn't remake the very tool that led to your death. Tell me this is a misunderstanding."

"Titania, there were things that I still had to consider. I cannot expect you to understand right now," he began soothingly. As he took a step forward, Titania felt the stab move even deeper into her chest, now cutting her diaphragm and making it very difficult to breathe. He noticed this and made another quick step forward, prompting an indignant step backward from the girl. He frowned and sighed, reaching a hand towards hers. She withdrew it promptly and was now staring at him in horror. "I could not allow our kingdoms to go without protection."

"Our kingdoms?" Titania said in a gasp. Nuada frowned and tried to move even closer to her. She sobbed a little and stumbled a pace backward, still glaring at him. "Protection?"

"You heard the Modron, mankind still wants a war with us!" Nuada countered defensively. Titania began sobbing more fully. How could he have done something so dangerous and harsh; to remake something that had only ever been given one purpose, to destroy humans? Nuada sighed and this time took several strides in one, trying desperately to take hold of her before she lost her senses and started blaming him for something awful. She hurried backward, moving toward the door and grasping the wall for support as she trembled. He looked away for a moment and sighed. He had every right to have remade the army. She simply needed to accept his authority and reasoning. "Titania, there will not be peace on the planet unless . . ."

"Someone takes away your wicked ability to tinker with magic!" she shouted, finishing his sentence angrily. The reply was so abrupt and angered that even the Morrighan put a hand to her mouth in surprise. Titania lifted a shaking finger and pointed it at him. "How could you, Nuada? How could you recreate something so destructive? It killed your sister, it killed your father, it killed _**you**_!"

"That is not entirely true, Titania, and you know it. Do not mistake actions taken and mistakes made on behalf of an ideal for the materials used to achieve the ideal itself they are two very different things," he continued. The girl snarled at him.

"Don't stand there giving me a lecture on semantics, Nuada, or your 'dark philosophies'! You told me you thought differently of humanity, that you had no interest in their annihilation," she shouted. The sisterhood, Liz especially, shifted uncomfortably and tried to think of something to do to intervene. "You _**lied**_ to me!"

The prince now formed an angry glare in his features, hearing his name and not title for the first time come repeatedly from her lips. She was deliberately disregarding his title, showing how much respect she did not have for him at the moment and how little propriety she exhibited when angry. "I did not lie to you, Titania," he said being very sure to say her name as slowly as possible. She scoffed and folded her arms, provoking an even greater amount of anger from the prince. "I did not reforge the crown for anyone's annihilation. How dare you accuse me of something that I have not shown inclination to these past three years!"

Liz couldn't help but blurt out a sudden laugh at this irony. Did Nuada hear the nonsense he was saying? Probably not, or he would have turned bright pink and stormed away. And yet he had, in front of the whole sisterhood, admitted that he had been bent on destroying humans only three years ago and had recently re-formed the very object that controlled what he had intended to use destroy them in front of his human fiancée! She covered her mouth and turned away, clearing her throat with mixed responses from the rest of the sisterhood. The Modron growled softly and smacked her hand against the scroll three times, trying to turn everyone's attention back to where it should have been. She had been one of the many opposed to the Prince's courting of Titania. Now that she was a member of the sisterhood, she could not afford to be distracted by the trivial issues of a relationship with a male. Nuada turned to her, looking more irritated than before.

"If you both recall, the real issue at hand is that the Golden Army poses a threat to the entire earth in any nation's hands. We must decide what to do about this at once," the Modron said firmly. The Ceridwen nodded in agreement and gestured toward Titania to come closer. The girl hesitated, tears slowly beginning to trickle down her cheeks. Each time Nuada would take a step toward her to try and dry them and comfort her and assure her that there was reason behind his actions, she would move away. The Modron cleared her throat and turned back to the parchment. "Now, if the issue is the presence of the army is an issue of interest for humanity, then we must conceal it from them."

"Impossible," the Morrighan suddenly chimed in. All eyes fell on her. "If there's one thing we should have learned about humans by now, it is that they have a great deal of potential for searching out secrets and then finding their way straight to trouble afterward."

"Another reason to be prepared in case of a human assault, we must be proactive in this," Nuada added quickly. Titania let out a small cry of shock at his words which caused another stab of pain in him. He grunted and glanced at her in agitation.

The Morrighan sneered at her nephew. "I was not aware that you were a member of the Sisterhood, Prince Nuada."

"My presence is on behalf of the magical races. As sovereign, I have every right to be present and represent their interests and survival," he said firmly, placing a hand over his heart for emphasis. Titania scoffed at this and stood firmly in front of him a few feet away.

"And who is going to represent humanity? Fair is fair, everyone deserves a voice if you're going to speak during a meeting where you are not a figure of real authority," she said with clear disdain. She had meant it in the context that he was not a member of the sisterhood with a full grasp and wielding of the energies of the elements, but Nuada took it to a deeper level and glared at her. How could she speak to him so harshly so suddenly? Was she . . . what on earth was that term that Abraham had taught him when he had dealt with a few odd moods Titania had exhibited . . . menstruating? No, he could not smell blood. Something very real, very much his fault was disturbing her. She looked back toward the Ceridwen. "I think the real issue is that the army can be revived at all. I say we demand that the Prince deliver the crown to us and that we destroy it once and for all and then destroy the soldiers themselves."

"I second that motion," Liz said quickly, raising her hand like an eager student.

The Ceridwen opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off by Nuada. "Deliver? You have no right to demand the crown from me. It is part of my birthright," he countered. Titania gazed back at him, confused at why he was defending the presence of something so destructive all of a sudden. He shook his head. "Have you forgotten who I am?"

"Not as much as you have forgotten what I am," Titania replied so harshly that she could barely say it above a whisper. Nuada looked back at her in surprise. What had he forgotten? He had not forgotten anything about her, not a single detail, over the past few years. He had been positively meticulous! What could he have forgotten that would anger her so? She shook her head slowly at him and then turned to the Ceridwen, steadying herself against the wall a moment and closing her eyes. She breathed deeply. "I'm sorry, Lady Ceridwen, but I think I have said all that I can. The army must not be given the opportunity to awaken; the crown must be seized and destroyed. I . . . " she trailed off turning away from the group and drawing in a deep breath. The Ceridwen frowned and watched as Titania spoke a few last words and hurried out of the chamber. "I have to go, now." The sisters and the Princely King could hear her using magic to leave the chamber, a little more clumsily than Nuada had done in arriving, but she had practiced as well as she could over the past few years to be able to run to his aide when needed. As she moved through the darkness, she allowed herself to sob harshly. He was becoming the man, or rather, elf that she had first met. She had loved him since first seeing him, but she knew well that he had not loved her. Was this going to change everything?

Back in the chamber, Liz frowned and turned to Nuada. She shook her head at him. "You just had to get that stupid crown remade," she muttered.

"It was not stupid, Elizabeth Sherman, it was prudent," he corrected. She smirked and shook her head. "If humanity rises against the magical world, what will defend us?"

"Uh, magic?" she said with a tint of angry sarcasm. Nuada growled softly as the rest of the sisterhood snickered at this. She sighed heavily. "You're in for it now, she's not going to speak to you until you do the right thing."

"I have done the right thing. I take every measure possible to defend my people," he countered.

"Yeah, but you're not doing it with a shield. The army isn't about defense and you know that," she corrected. The prince turned away, angered that a human female had, once again, stated the obvious that he had ignored. It angered him more that his father had said the very same thing months ago when the re-forging had finished. She turned to the rest of the sisters. "I think I've said all I need to. I'll see what the Bureau can do to keep any information from getting out," she said nodding toward the Modron and the Ceridwen in turn. She turned to the Morrighan. "Anything else can be handled after there's been some cooling down."

The rest of the sisterhood watched as the pyro moved past Nuada and out into the same hall that had led Titania away from the chamber. The prince frowned and looked back at the Ceridwen, shame and hurt emblazoned on his pale features. She smiled as kindly as possible. "We will discuss other matters for the time being, your majesty. You may return to your throne," she said.

He shook his head and turned away, rubbing his brow furiously. He had said the wrong things, he must have. There was only one person to turn to in these situations and hopefully he was not too busy to offer assistance. He turned back to the rest of the sisters and bowed ceremoniously. "If you will excuse me, my ladies, I have other business to attend to . . ." he looked toward the exit and began walking forward. " . . . with my brother-in-law."

(*)

Puck looked at the faces of the high council members that were gathered in what was once King Balor's court. Prince Nuada had sent him back to make sure that court came to its proper order and session to discuss what they had discovered in the forest that morning. The news of the humans' desire for the Golden Army, or rather the rumor of it, had already reached the High Elders and their council. They were all speaking quietly and anxiously about what was to become of their people, of the royal family. Prince Nuada was obviously not interested in a peaceful reign and it would be unheard of to allow Princess Nuala or her son to take the throne (though it was agreed that it would be a much better route if the prince's continued obsession with the human, Titania, or war with humanity continued). The Chamberlain stood uneasily at the back of the courtroom. He had been one of the strongest voices in favor of aiding the prince's efforts with Titania. Puck had heard repeatedly from the slug-fairy that the prince would surely become steady and more properly focused once married; few agreed with him.

"It is clear that the army was awakened once, and it may yet be used again. Our king, Prince Nuada Silverlance, believes that humanity seeks it and indeed, the humans have admitted such folly. But if mankind were to acquire this weapon, then there would be bloodshed far beyond what Prince Nuada would have performed in the name of the earth," one of the high elders said loudly. "We must act quickly to hide it once more before one of their empires acquires it for their own sadistic purposes."

"Who here could? Everyone has neither the authority nor the means to put the army back into hiding, especially in a place that the prince and humanity wouldn't find it," another elder said firmly. "The only choice is to call upon a force great enough to destroy them."

"Don't you remember? The army is indestructible; the goblins made them too well. Even with the crown destroyed, they are still a threat," yet another chimed in. Puck frowned and shook his head. There had been nothing accomplished in the past few hours and it didn't seem like much was going to be accomplished at all.

"Then what you chiefly need . . . is someone strong and wise," a raspy, and foreign voice said. The voice didn't seem too far away and resounded in such an odd manner that every person listening was sure that the person who had spoken was standing right behind them each in turn. An unusual silence settled over the crowd of elves and elders gathered as a tall, dark figure entered. The creature appeared to be human, clothed in long, black robes and wearing dark spectacles. A somewhat green aura surrounded him and he was without hair on top of his head. A thin beard shaped his chin. He seemed to be of importance and magical, but he still looked quite human. A soft murmuring began to rise over the crowd as he strode through the courtroom and towards the elaborate throne once belonging to Balor and now belonging to his uncertain son. The man kept both hands behind him clasping a somewhat large book. None of the elves recognized the title or the smell emitting from it. Puck felt every nerve in his body set on edge by this new comer and was sure that he was not the only one feeling this. "I will gladly offer my services to rightly utilize and dispatch The Golden Army. Now," the man said as he turned and faced the court. "Where is Prince Nuada? I must know that he is in agreement . . . heart and soul."

Puck moved forward as the elders stared at this man in disbelief. "The prince is in negotiations with the humans and the sisterhood. He is not expected to return for some time," he said. Something in the pwca told him that it would be best to tell this small semi-truth to the creature rather than telling him of the court's current unrest in wanting to fill the throne with his sister or a reasonable replacement. The figure frowned and turned, taking in a deep breath. Puck watched in irritation as the man turned back and smoothly sat down on the throne. He placed either hand on the armrests, leaving the book in his lap as he made himself comfortable. "We will tell him of your wish to speak with him."

"No need," the man continued with a broad grin that glowed with an arrogance far exceeding the prince's. "I will wait for him."


	9. 8 Lovegame

Chapter 8: Lovegame

Nuada could feel the world tilting swiftly around him. His three years as ruler of the magical realm had afforded him the tuned senses that he had never known existed in his father. He could sense the shifting of the Black Forest and its unrest as Lumeweiss related her dream to Master Rhonzo and the caravan began to move more hurriedly away from their camp. There was a significant unrest from the gathering of evil beings that he had sent many hunting parties and even the armies of Jareth, the Goblin King, to seek out and prevent an insurrection from the last surviving servant of Oberon, Grindel. He could feel a strange happening from the court, assuming that news had reached them by now that the crown had been re-forged. He could feel the terrible unrest among the great multitudes of magical beings and humans alike as the earth cried out. The sensation and situation that the great mother was experiencing reminded him of a fever, a terrible fever that would not break as the body fought whatever tormented it. He shook away the feelings of oppression from all the sources of unrest and negativity nearest him and focused on getting back to the bureau's headquarters swiftly. It would be highly unusual to see the prince twice in one day and this might have been a little disturbing for its denizens, so he felt it best to approach Abraham away from his sister. She had enough things to worry over at the moment and needed nothing further to trouble her. At the moment he had managed to convince her that the crown's presence was an ominous dream, simply a fear and nightmare that she had faced. The moment she found out, Nuada feared that she would turn away from him entirely. He sighed as he appeared in front of the building and leapt up to one of the window ledges, slipping in as easily as an insect.

He moved swiftly from the upper levels of the compound down in front of the enormous doors that led to the library. He studied their strange markings for a moment, listening carefully to what was happening behind the doors. He could hear his sister and Abraham speaking to one another. He moved closer to the door and could hear his nephew nearby his sister and the sea-elfling ears suddenly perked up. He looked toward the door, his uncle sensing his movement and recognition. Nuada frowned and tried to use the same willpower he had over his sister to tell his nephew to keep silent. The boy heard it and, while he did not turn his attention away from the door, did not alert his parents to Nuada's presence.

"We only just sent the twins back to Liz. Why can we not speak of this later?" the princess was arguing. Her husband sighed heavily and placed a blue hand gently on her shoulder. She frowned and looked down at their child. "Abraham, the last time we left him in the care of someone else . . ." Nuala began uneasily.

"It did not harm him and there can't be much more done to his psyche if he's not speaking English," Abraham interjected. "We need time to discuss things," he took her hand gently and looked deeply into her amber eyes, " . . . alone."

She turned her head and sighed. There was something going on in the north that she could sense almost as fully as her brother, something that Abraham feared and he wanted to speak with her with it at length away from their child. They had managed to keep Leopold away from any of the violence that had forged her father and brother so far; the princess did not want his delicate nature tainted by even the hint of war. The thought had briefly crossed her mind that this was the very thing that Aine', her mother, had done to Nuada in an attempt to keep him from succumbing to the goblins' curse, but these circumstances were certainly not nearly the same for her son. She nodded slowly as Abe put a hand gently on her cheek. She turned back to him, staring into his large eyes as they felt each other's minds for a few moments. She smiled briefly and then turned toward the door. Hearing this, Nuada leapt up toward a nearby ledge close to the ceiling and deftly clung to it, watching the form of his sister gracefully leave the room leading her son by the hand. Leopold did not stop moving, but turned and glanced up at his uncle for a moment before hurrying beside his mother.

The prince swooped down from the ledge and slipped into the library, glancing around as he entered. He had seen this room several times on visits and still could not understand why his sister had remained here instead of joining him in Bethmoora. He looked at the rows of books. This new room was almost an exact replica of the library that had been Abraham's home in Trenton, but larger and with an exit to an observatory at the top of the stairs beyond the quarters where Leopold and Nuala stayed. He had been told that Abraham had taken up the task of watching the skies and listening carefully for signs of races beyond the earth and that, in the process of having the materials to do so, he and Nuala had grown quite accustomed to sitting in the observatory and watching the stars together. The prince himself had watched the moon from time to time, but had never truly found the stars as fascinating as his sister. They served no real purpose, gave no real meaningful light. He felt that the only reason for their creation must have been to dazzle and divert. Perhaps that is what Nuala saw in them and that is exactly why she stayed in the library, why she remained attached to Abraham, why she desired to keep her son among other beings. He shook his head and moved further in, locating Abraham easily. The amphibian had a large stack of books in his arms. They looked quite old and were each at least the size of three large tomes separately. One of them had a symbol similar to the one Titania had drawn, the symbol of his uncle, and the others had odd writings in old Germanic tongues on their covers.

"There is still no word to explain why the symbol troubled her," Abraham announced. Nuada froze and watched him cautiously from a distance. Had the blue-man's senses grown that keen? "No, but I have become used to recognizing the signs of your presence." Nuada stopped moving and thought to himself about how this could have happened. He had made it into the compound many times without others noticing him and that had included Abe from time to time. "True, but you haven't really taken notice of whether or not I've taken notice as of late," Abraham replied aloud. Nuada's eyes widened further in amazement and curiosity. The fish man smirked. "I can hear you breathing, it's very similar to Nuala's, but you have a certain . . . well . . . uncertainty about you and the struggle to suppress it personifies itself in your breath as a subtle quivering."

Anger began to slightly stir in the prince at the thought of another being implying at all that he was limited in any fashion, but especially to have the limitations noted outwardly. Abe opened the cover of the topmost book and quickly flipped to a specific page as Nuada approached him. "I suppose I should only expect your unusual qualities to become attuned to my presence," the prince rationalized aloud. Abe smirked a little, knowing well that this was the royal's attempt to regain personal control of the situation. He set the top book to the side and opened the next, once again to a specific page. "I have come to speak to you about Titania."

"What did I tell you the last time you asked for my help in whatever relationship you plan to pursue with her?" Abe said with a sigh.

Nuada frowned and looked away. "That if I needed assistance dealing with a woman that I had better ask a woman lest said advice blow up in my face and create a far greater mess than before because the two of us are both only men and not very knowledgeable men at that in the ways of the hearts of the fairer sex," Nuada repeated with a heavy tone. "And do not even think about asking the demon for advice, either, as he is even less skilled in tenderness for women."

"Practically verbatim, I'm impressed," Abe commented as he began to study one book and then the other. Nuada opened his mouth to speak. Abe lifted one hand. "I meant it and have meant it every time you have asked. There are a great many things I can share with you or can direct you to in this library and any issues with your beloved will not be solved by consulting pages or friends of a similar mindset to your own."

"I disagree," Nuada said firmly, realizing what Abe was getting at. The amphibian had been adamant that the prince ask either his sister or, Heaven forbid, Liz if situations arose with the need for 'relationship advice' in the future. In truth, Nuada was more frightened of the thought of dealing with his sister than the angry pyro at the moment. "Only one with my mindset can give me the knowledge I need or I would not be able to comprehend it as fully."

"Agreed, your highness, but you are not the one in question when you seek this sort of advice," Abe replied as he stroked one hand over one of the pages and then suddenly reached for a third book, opening to a section closer to its back pages. Nuada drew closer, trying to get a better look at what Abe was reading and also to try and strong-arm his way into getting some sort of knowledge from the creature that had managed to woo his sister. "If you seek advice, then you have not been able to communicate your thoughts to Titania and vice versa. What you need is someone to either tell you how to communicate your thoughts to her, interpret something she has said to you, or to help you better grasp any other messages Titania might have sent to you without words. For that, you will need someone who speaks the language of women and I do not." Nuada contemplated repeating that he disagreed, but in this instance he had to admit that Abe was at least right about needing someone that understood Titania's point of view more fully. He furrowed his brow and thought about approaching her father. "I wouldn't; Dr. Manning is easily unsettled by you as it is and if he thought for a moment that he had the opportunity to sabotage your permanent presence in his daughter's life he would seize it and you would suffer."

"Do you allow others to speak their mind in your presence, or have you become that impatient?" the prince said with irritation. Abe turned and glanced at him.

"You wanted to avoid Nuala; I won't ask why, but that much is painfully clear. She will be back in a few short seconds, so I suggest you get whatever else it is you need to do done quickly and leave before she returns," Abe said with a wave of one hand and a tone of full resignation. He glanced from the first book to the second and then to the third in sequence repeatedly. Nuada turned away and looked at the door. "Perhaps you might have better luck asking Liz if you . . ."

"Do you honestly think she would be interested at all in assisting me?" the prince shot back.

"If it meant Titania being truly happy, yes," Abe replied simply. "And the fact that you have brought her true happiness is, I reiterate, painfully clear."

"This was futile," Nuada huffed indignantly.

"No, it reminded you of the proper procedure in matters similar," Abe said with a shrug. "Your staying put at the moment is futile."

"Very well then, I will go and seek answers elsewhere," Nuada said angrily.

"Then I bid you good day, your highness," Abe said. Nuada looked at him in disdain. Abe frowned and put the book he was holding down onto the table and moved to stand more closely to his brother in law. "Anything you might be facing at the moment preventing love between the two of you is temporary, I assure you."

"I am not convinced," Nuada said firmly before turning and walking toward the door.

"Then that may be part of the problem," Abe muttered and turned back to the books, awaiting Nuala's return.

Nuada deftly opened the doors, managing to move the mammoth doors without a sound. He stepped into the hallway and groaned inwardly at the thought of the only source of information he could consult at the moment. He drew in a deep breath and a sense of resolve, clasped one hand over the ornate sword at his side and placed the other one over his back ceremoniously as he moved forward. He had paid close attention to the layout of the compound at each visit, but had never made any special visits to the appointed governing prince of the Americas and its magical beings, Anung Un Rama, or Red Broom. He still harbored slight resentment toward the only being that had been able to best him so efficiently and its mate. He had found their children quite amusing and had managed to be central focus of both twins when in their presence. He made his way through the winding hallways into the portion of the compound assigned to the demon and his family. Oddly, he couldn't hear Nuala or Leopold nearby. He began moving more slowly and edged his way up to the door, listening. Without a word the door swung open.

"What?" Liz said, one hand on her hip in a manner that told Nuada she had not only sensed his approach but had become angered by it as well. He growled and turned to the side. "Well, what is it?"

"Have I become as clumsy as the rest of the humans by entering? What on earth made you aware of someone outside your door?" He exclaimed, becoming as frustrated with everyone seeming so prepared for him as they were to have him present.

"Possibly," she muttered with a shrug and then held aloft her communicator. "Or it could be that Abe just radioed me to be expecting you and to make sure you didn't run into your better half."

"Then I assume that he explained to you the nature of my visit," he continued.

Liz smirked. "He doesn't have to. If you aren't here to see your sister, then you're here because of Tania," she replied flatly. The prince frowned again. He hated, absolutely hated, things of his realm being so predictable to a human. "Look, she didn't seem like she wanted to kill you or never see you again. You both have some pretty big things happening. Just take some time to talk about things; that always helps."

"I tried to speak with her, you were there," Nuada protested. Before Liz could reply, the two heard a shrill laugh and the door rattled as the twins bounced up against their mother. She grunted and caught Aidan in her arms. Aine' managed to slip past her mother and out in front of the prince. Liz nodded toward the toddler and Nuada interpreted it immediately, though what she wanted was all the more irritating for him. He reached down and caught the half she-demon and held her momentarily. "She will not listen."

"You're going to have to go somewhere neutral or on her terms. She's still making a transition, you know, like a paranormal puberty of sorts. She needs to be able to express herself to you somewhere she feels safe," Liz explained. "Just don't let it go. She may seem like she wants you to leave her alone, but you can't let things go with anyone in her family . . . trust me."

"That is far too simple to be the answer," Nuada countered as Aine laid her head against his chest and tried to cling him. He shifted her, staring at Liz in disbelief. "There must be something more I can do."

"Well, she'll let you know anything else when you two are talking things out," the pyro replied. She turned and set Aidan on the floor with a stern command to stay put before reaching out and taking Aine' from the prince. Nuada looked at her, examining her for a moment with a strange focus. She stared back at him, confusedly. What was it that he was seeing now? He sighed, inwardly coveting the idea that this human presented in home and family. He had spent much of his life as a nomad and warrior, but had longed painfully for what he had briefly enjoyed as a child. Liz recognized the longing in the prince's amber eyes. She had seen it in Red's eyes as well. A slight smile crossed her lips. Suddenly the alarm system overhead began to blare loudly. Liz set Aine' down as her communicator also went off. She answered the call immediately as Nuada stepped back. Her eyes widened and a look of panic crossed her features. "I'll be there in a minute," she said quickly. "I have to get to the infirmary," she said in barely more than a breath. She turned and quickly found what she needed to dress both the twins properly and leave them in the care of the professional that was supposed to be prepared for them to take care of them. Red and Liz had always felt more comfortable leaving the two with Nuala and Abe, but that would not be an option right now. "Something's happened, Red's hurt," she said as Nuada continued to watch her. He straightened at this. "I just need to make sure he's okay."

"I will leave you to that, then," Nuada said. "And I thank you."

"Just . . ." she turned and looked at him, trying to remain calm and focus on one thing at a time past her panic. "Just try to remember that she's not you."

"I will," he said.

With the last two words, the elf disappeared. Liz turned back to the task of gathering up her offspring. She clutched both of them as close to her as possible while radioing the administrator and asking for the sitter to make it to her immediately. She hadn't been given details about what Red had been through, only that they were bringing him straight to the infirmary . . . unconscious. Leopold stepped out from the other room where he had been waiting. Liz knew that it would be a little out of the ordinary to leave the elfling with a human that Nuala didn't know, but she didn't have a choice at the moment. He looked at her with concern, but then quickly took Aine's hand in his. Liz frowned. "Red is . . . not well, he's been hurt. I'm going to make sure he's going to be alright," she explained. "You'll have to stay with someone else for a few moments until your mom and dad are done making some plans." To her surprise, Leopold nodded firmly and squeezed Aine's hand. The boy led his pseudo-cousin to the door and waited patiently for Liz and Aidan. As she finished, she found the presence to take a breath. "Okay, let's go."

(*)

Titania had gone back to the enormous mansion in England after the ordeal in Bethmoora. Her mother had been, yet again, on business. Magnus had found it unusual that the girl didn't even want to speak to Misses Badcrumble about what was troubling her, but didn't voice it. He had watched her go swiftly up the stairs bearing the same wearied expression most teenagers with unrequited love displayed in magazines and television, though with more sincerity. She immediately sat down on the bed and welcomed the warm muzzle of Raavi into her lap. The tiger purred loudly and sat down in front of her, examining her eyes and doing his utmost to comfort her. She sighed and stroked his head affectionately.

"I have no idea what I'm doing among those women, Raavi," she admitted. The tiger grunted and pushed his muzzle more firmly under her hand. She sighed. "Neither does he, if you ask me. He's not sailing with a full crew. How could he think that making that crown would solve anything after everything it's done?" The tiger snorted and licked his mouth, still looking up at her calmly. She frowned and patted his enormous shoulder. "Oh well, he's always done the right thing in the end, right?" At this, Raavi stood up and curled the end of his tail slightly as if to agree. She turned away and walked toward her sound system. There were a few things forbidden while her mother was at home as far as music and they bore no similar pattern. She clicked the system to on and slipped in one of the forbidden discs to a very forbidden track as she sat back down on the bed. Raavi leapt onto the bed and fully put his head in her lap, reclining the rest of his body over the bed as if it was a broad jungle-stone. She smiled and rubbed his head gently. "Maybe he's just afraid," she reasoned. "I'm just not sure what he would be afraid of right now. That thing in the forest was scary, but it has to be something more pressing if it's bothering him this much." Titania pondered this silently before beginning to softly sing along with the tune.

"I've never quite grasped the meaning of this song," Titania heard Nuada's voice announce from somewhere nearby. She turned, blushed, and froze as he began walking toward her. "And what on earth is 'disco stick'?"

Overwhelmed by the ironic humor in the prince's question, Titania giggled slightly and turned away. "Well," she said, trying to think of the best way to put this. She cleared her throat, now remembering her anger and the reason for it. She breathed deeply and crossed her arms. "Suffice to say that you have one."

"Ah, so it is a weapon," he rationalized. She chuckled softly and placed her hand steadily on Raavi's head.

"Not exactly," she replied. The prince waited a moment, giving her an opportunity to make a more expressive statement. She sighed heavily and looked up at him. "What do you need, I mean, why are you here right now? Shouldn't you be at court with all this turmoil?"

"Those issues and duties are easily delegated to those with more time and less weighing on them," he replied smoothly. Titania looked at him in as much confusion as Liz had done when he had waited in the doorway. He reached one hand out to her. "There is much for us to discuss. You have a great deal to say to me and I need to hear it before any further decisions are made."

She froze at his words and then smiled. Yes, this was the prince she had fallen in love with and come to expect. A warmth filled her and she felt more at peace now than in the past few hours. If Nuada was behaving more properly now, then perhaps there was hope for the rest of the world.


	10. 9 Alfskros

_(((Congratulations, Tracy and Brandon Hartley on bringing Isabella Jaylee into the world today! She is beautiful!)))_

Chapter 9: Alfskros

Titania led the way out of her room silently. Nuada grasped her hand and sensed that she was more relaxed around him for the time being. This pleased him. While it did not by any means signify that she had completely forgiven him yet, it did mean that she was not filling herself enough with anger to hate him. His breathing became more steady than it had been throughout the day and the two moved down the staircase. He gazed around at the finery yet again, remembering the night he had taken her and fled to the Troll Market before the battle with Oberon. A fond sadness moved over him as he realized he missed how innocent and simple those days had seemed. Titania knew him as a handsome prince, a stalwart warrior and protector from her fairytales. Now he was real and, in being real, could fall from grace. He shook his head as they headed for the large glass doors. He could hear Raavi trailing behind and the elf smirked at thinking of the tiger's continued loyalty. Another sound filled the prince's ears and a twinge of fear suddenly pierced his consciousness. He froze, prompting Titania to turn and stare at him in confusion. He swallowed hard as the girl tried to discern what it was that had interrupted their journey. She frowned as she noted a figure standing behind him, hands on its hips and glamour swirling about her with anger.

"And just where do you think you're going, eh?" a familiar voice demanded from barely a pace behind the elf. Nuada breathed deeply. The old fragglewump raised one of her brows so sternly that his sharp, pointed ears heard it clearly without seeing it at all. "Well?"

"We're going to have a little conversation, Misses Badcrumble," Titania explained. "Just for a walk and a chat, that's all."

"You'll not be venturing off alone with him, not after he's recanted his call for peace. Such a disgusting display of selfishness I've never heard of in all my years at court!" the old troll ranted angrily. Nuada could hear that she was wielding some sort of large, wooden kitchen utensil behind him and that she was also waving it at the moment for emphasis. He groaned and looked at Titania . . . hurt. "Let him go and undo his own sin before he draws you into another web of lies and deception!"

Titania looked back at him sadly, biting her lip anxiously. The prince was clearly agitated that the old woman had been told about the reforging of the crown without his permission, but he knew better now than to have expected anything less. The revelation had completely disturbed the girl which meant that Misses Badcrumble would have done her utmost to uncover the source of her adopted 'child's unhappiness. He sighed and turned to face the angry troll with resolve. She narrowed her yellowed eyes at him and pointed the business end of a wooden mallet at his nose. He reached one hand out and softly, but firmly, grasped the wrist holding the mallet and returned her gaze as sternly. "I have much to discuss with Titania, the Ostara, Misses Badcrumble. As your king, you will respect my wishes and obey my voice," he said firmly. The troll growled softly, but nodded and took a step backward, continuing to hold the mallet up. He grinned a little. "I commend you for your dedication to protecting my . . ." he turned and looked into Titania's eyes, trying to form the right title to describe the well of emotions and copious affection in as succinct a manner as possible even for an immortal. At the moment, words were failing him. " . . . my beloved."

"Beloved, indeed," Misses Badcrumble muttered as she turned and headed back for the kitchen. Titania smiled and shook her head, watching the form of the short and wonderful old cook hurry back to the safety of her ovens and cupboards. "That boy wouldn't know what to do with true love if it got a stranglehold on his heart. Beloved . . . ha!"

"It is good to see that she has not begun to suffer any ill effects of being so exposed to human emotion," Nuada commented. Titania laughed and quickly turned, heading out the door. Nuada smiled and followed after, hurrying to join her but doing his best to stay a pace and a half behind her. He watched her dark hair bouncing behind her like a philly's proud mane in the wind cascading over her shoulders. The girl stopped a few feet into the forest's edge, waiting for the prince to lead them back to his court. Nuada closed his eyes and began to draw the energy of the forest and all its available magic about him like a cloak. Titania watched the subtle changes in his eyes, in his breath, and smiled as she realized that he was still intent on a noble and pure task . . . nothing sinister, not really. He opened his eyes, revealing a slight golden glow as he reached out and gently placed both hands on her shoulders, encompassing the two of them in the energy. The world around them shifted and the forest began to vanish where they stood. A cool breeze whipped past them and Titania recognized the sensation of moving forward in the void that existed between solid realms. A new sensation met her and an all too familiar sensation met the prince. Their destination was not far and there was a certain unrest about it. Something had happened in the prince's brief absence these past two days and he was sure that it meant more than the discovery of the crown's existence. Yes, whatever this was it felt as though a powerful force had penetrated the stronghold of Bethmoora, a powerful force that radiated a darkness that even the void between solid realms did not have. For the first time in centuries, there was evil in Bethmoora.

(*)

Puck had stood in front of Rasputin for the past few hours ranting and shouting at the sorcerer about his blatant act of usurpation. The old soothsayer ignored the pwca and concentrated on trying to anticipate Nuada's actions in the moments that would follow his return to the throne room. The other elves had whispered amongst one another and even the old chamberlain had begun speaking in a hushed and anxious tone with some of the crimson-clad priests. Wink had gone and waited at the entrance for Nuada to return, thinking that the sorcerer might try to attack his price from the inside out. He could meet his master at the entrance and guide him safely to the throne room where the full punishment due the old magician could be dealt swiftly. To Wink's dismay, Nuada had not returned in the time he had expected him. The troll was beginning to fret and Puck was growing more angry and verbal by the minute. He had begun reciting the entire chronicles of protocol to Rasputin and was now nearing the very center of the numerous volumes he had memorized.

"And furthermore, the throne room itself must not be freely entered by any creature; male or female, mortal or divine, young or old . . ." the pwca stated firmly. Rasputin rolled his eyes in agitation as the rabbit fairy continued. The pwca ranted on and on giving the list of comparative types of beings that were forbidden to be present in Bethmoora's throne room without permission. The old sorcerer finally had his fill of the ranting. "In the absence of the king any and all visitations, edicts, conflicts and confrontations . . ."

The Russian swooped forward off the throne and seized Puck by the throat. The crowd of elves gasped at the display. Puck gasped and struggled to free himself. The sorcerer's hand felt unusual, most definitely tainted by some sort of dark magic. Rasputin sneered at the consul and held him close to his face. "I have had enough of your pathetic recitations, vermin," he snarled. Puck gasped and tried to kick at Rasputin's wrist, finding it impossible to change back into his more humanoid form at the moment. "I will leave your pelt as a token of my visit to the prince."

"Put him down," the loud and firm voice of the prince announced from a few feet away. Rasputin turned and noticed that Nuada had apparated into the room. He could feel the surge of magic fading, being too overcome with anger to have sensed the prince's arrival. Nuada gently pushed Titania to stand behind him and took a step forward. Rasputin growled softly and lowered the pwca slightly. Nuada frowned at the man's refusal to obey immediately. "I said, put him down. Now."

"You are returned," the sorcerer mused. He dropped Puck and sharply kicked him to the side. Puck wheezed and came to land at the feet of one of the elves standing in the throne room. The female reached down and hurriedly drew Puck into her arms, watching her prince and the sorcerer uneasily. "Your absence was . . . more temporary than anticipated."

"You were not summoned, nor were you welcomed into my court," Nuada said firmly. He withdrew his spear and held it out at the man, allowing its silvery end to lengthen menacingly. "The penalty for trespassing is death."

"I am no mere mortal," Rasputin countered. He reached into his robes and withdrew a small metal object. Titania tried to watch, craning her neck past the form of her beloved. The sorcerer caught sight of the girl and smirked. His smile seemed more crooked than any winding root the elf had seen in his lifetime. "I see you are already familiar with the extraordinary nature of certain humans." Nuada growled and stepped forward again, keeping one hand behind him ready to shove Titania backward should she try to defend him. "You have no power to deny me what I want."

"I beg to differ," the prince replied.

"Good; you accept that begging is fitting in my presence," the old man retorted. Nuada growled more loudly and advanced even closer to the man, still keeping a distance between them. Rasputin clutched whatever it was that he was holding tightly in his hand, but now held his hand out to his side. "What are you going to do; kill me?"

"Yes," Nuada said simply. He lunged forward, but did not expect what followed. Rasputin countered the blow with one hand, grasping the shaft of the spear and thrusting the butt of the weapon harshly into the prince's abdomen. Nuada gasped as Rasputin, still holding the weapon, hurled him to the side a few feet in front of the female still cradling Puck's limp form. The sorcerer stood, unmoved by the display and grinned. Nuada stared in surprise at the man, specifically that inhuman arm of his. Rasputin merely grinned, then turned and studied Titania for a moment. The girl stood stunned, held back away from the prince by the chamberlain who had moved forward to catch her in mid run. Nuada had been very clear about his instructions regarding Titania, namely to do everything in one's power to protect her while in his presence as a vassal. Rasputin turned back to Nuada and glared at him.

"I know what you have done, that the crown lives. I will have it. I give you one week," he said in a low and unyielding tone. Nuada snarled at him defiantly. The sorcerer looked into the prince's eyes more fiercely and deeply than ever before. The tone of his voice reminded Nuada of the thundering steps of the Golden Army itself trembling and shifting the very living earth beneath its maliciousness. The old Russian snarled and held aloft a pentagram made of steel. Nuada glared back as Rasputin spoke. "You have reminded them why they feared the dark, why they feared your kind," he hissed. He suddenly threw the symbol, aiming directly for Puck. Nuada's eyes widened as did the frozen pwca's. The prince reached out quickly and snatched the amulet in his hand. In an instant, a foul smell of burning flesh filled the immediate space around the elf and he cried out in pain, dropping the steel object with the five-pointed symbol branded deeply into his palm. Wink roared and started towards Rasputin who simply grinned at the pained royal. "I will make them do more than fear you . . . they will despise you again. You shall remember well why the rift tore mankind from loyalty to their oath. They will hate you more than you have ever hated them!"

As the sorcerer suddenly disappeared from view, Nuada knelt on the throne room floor and Titania broke free of the chamberlain. She hurried to her beloved's side and placed a hand under his wounded hand, quickly taking the pentagram in her other palm. The prince breathed sharply as Titania focused on the symbol. She turned and looked at him in confusion, still grasping the star-like amulet. He groaned and looked away. "Mankind may have forgotten its original purpose, but he will do his utmost to stir their memory as quickly as possible," he said. Titania furrowed her brow in deeper confusion, silently asking him what the symbol was and what it meant. "Alfskros," Nuada whispered sadly. "A testament to man's fear of our world and their twisting of magic to defend themselves against it."

"What can it do?" she asked in a trembling voice.

"It is meant to entrap the energy of the fairy folk and fey, it imprisons and destroys." The prince's eyes spun with pain, anger, and fear as well. He looked into her eyes with the most sincere concern she had ever seen. "It can undo our powers . . . it can kill magic."


	11. 10 A Burn in the Hand

Chapter 10: A Burn in the Hand

"What the hell did you do to him?" Liz shouted. The medical team worked quickly to stabilize Red as the team had returned to the compound. Meyers had tried to explain everything that had happened in Antarctica in a nutshell to the pyro as the team had entered and work had begun on the fallen agent, but she refused to take any information other than 'he's still breathing'. Meyers winced at her words as flames began to flicker around her face and arms.

"He, or, we were attacked by this enormous . . . mechanized . . . well, it's hard to explain, but Kroenen was in it," he said quickly. Liz scowled at him as he continued. "Red tried to punch through some of the glass on it and got his hand stuck. The medic says that quite a few glass shards got into his forearm and shoulder, severing a vein and causing a lot of blood loss. He just needs some recovery time; he's going to be fine."

"He better be," she muttered as she turned to watch the progress through the window leading into the infirmary.

"Nice to see you again, too," Meyers said angrily. He turned and tried to locate another familiar face, hopefully a blue one. To his relief, Abe entered the room only a second later. The amphibian grasped his old friend by the arm tightly and looked intently at the youth's immediate memories.

"Oh dear," Abe said as the images of Kroenen and the buildings came to him. Meyers frowned and stepped away. "I am glad to see that at least you are unharmed, Agent Meyers."

"Yeah, at least someone is," he said as he turned back to watch Liz watch the commotion surrounding her husband. "You'd think I deliberately put a gun to his head or something."

"She's been a little on the edgy side since becoming mother, forgive her," Abe offered. Meyers turned back to his old friend in time to see a strange new figure appear beside Abe, a figure that almost made Meyers jump in surprise. It looked very feminine and pale, some haunting combination of heavenly angel and ancient vampiress. "Oh, Agent Meyers, this is Princess Nuala. She's . . . well, she and I are married now." The youth seemed unfazed by this and continued to stare in fear and awe at the princess. Abe frowned and spoke more loudly. "She and I were wed after she came to stay with the bureau for a while following a mission."

"Oh my God," Meyers said softly. Nuala looked into his eyes with curiosity. "They've been here? Both of them?"

"What do you mean, Agent Meyers?" Abe asked in concern.

The youth stepped closer to the princess. The princess was shocked to hear the young man speaking in the tongue she and her people had called their own centuries past its popular use. "Where is your brother?" he asked urgently. Nuala looked at him with greater curiosity. "The enemy that attacked us is looking for him, where is he?"

Before Nuala could answer, the alarms that had sounded for the entrance of the team subsided and the hidden message of an anxious calm suddenly became clear. Meyers frowned and looked at the two in concern. Liz turned back to the group in concern as well. Nuala shook her head and sighed heavily. For the moment, she couldn't very well be sure of what her brother was up to, only that he likely was doing something with Titania and desperately trying to avoid the formalities in the coming autumn events held at the court. She sighed heavily. Things had never been so complicated before, but at least there were more people here to help now than there had ever been to aid her.

One of the nurses entered the room and informed the group that Red was awake and requesting that Liz come and see him. Unable to prevent the rest of the group from accompanying her, Liz allowed the others to try and fit around the bed where the demon was still recovering. Red clutched Liz's hand gratefully, looking deliberately away from the intravenous hook up on the opposite side. Abe was eyeing it anxiously, noting that the demon had received five units of whole human blood. Meyers looked down at his old friend anxiously as well, unsure of whether or not things would be more than cordial between them again. A few words were exchanged, but small talk was the extent of any conversation for the time being. There was no real reason that anyone except Nuala could see for it, but there seemed to be fear moving through the group.

"Are the kids okay? Are they with someone else?" Red asked Liz excitedly. His words were made a little more slow by the pain killers. She smiled and stroked his face affectionately.

"Yeah, I had to let Jenna look after them for a bit," she replied. Realizing that Leopold was included in that statement, Nuala looked up with slight disapproval at the woman. She hadn't given permission for her son to be left with someone she did not know very well, but she surmised that the emergency had necessitated it.

"I'm glad we had a boy and a girl, one of each. I would hate to have to worry about them having those identity problems you were reading about in that book, right? I'm glad they didn't fight over who gets to go first." Red sat up a little more and looked toward Nuala. "Hey, you and your brother didn't fight over who was going to come out first, did you? Did you like have to decide that before or was it girls first?"

Abe looked at his friend with confusion and then at Nuala with embarrassment. The princess looked a little unsettled by the question, but cleared her throat. "I am not sure if we had any discussion as to who would be first. We were very young and there isn't much to remember," she said. She turned to Abe, taking his hand. "My brother was born first. Mother said father was absolutely overwhelmed when it was announced that we were . . . well . . . _we_ instead of just him."

"I didn't think elves could have twins," Meyers interjected. Abe and Nuala turned to him. He had explained to the two in the meantime that he had been interested in Celtic and Norse myths in high school and had not only dutifully studied the histories and legends, but also the ancient tongue itself as best as he could manage in a world that had almost forgotten it. Once assured that the princess could speak English easily, he set aside the need to be formal and did the same. "I mean, I always thought that you two were born a year apart. The legends we have didn't mention that you were gemini."

"Humans were not able to record every detail of our world. I am surprised that you came across more of the untainted information. Most of your kind have read of my brother, but not me, and their view of him is in the place of my father and have placed my father in the role of Fergus the Vile," Nuala replied. Abe nodded in agreement with the she-elf and grasped her hand. A frown found its way onto the amphibian's face. Nuala was thinking, and had been thinking for at least the last hour, exclusively about the boy. She was fascinated with him and very impressed with his intellect and Gaelic. What disturbed Abe all the more was her affixation with his eyes and dark hair. He released her hand, watching her turn to Meyers more fully as she spoke. "In fact, many of the legends humans have adopted about our kind do not even bear the same semblance to the region we come from, they seem almost laughable."

"Well, you have Hollywood to thank for that. People would rather see elves as gnomes with pointy shoes and sparkly clothes than something divine," the young agent said with a smile. Nuala smiled brightly at this statement, delighted by the humour. Abe frowned more fully looking from his beloved to Meyers. There was nothing to be concerned about, of course, but there was something about their interactions that irritated the amphibian. Was this what jealousy felt like? Meyers turned to Red. "Doc says you'll be up for release from this set up in the morning. Manning wants everyone to meet and discuss briefly what happened in the Antarctic and to come up with what we're going to do next."

"That's nice," Red muttered. His eyes began to close slightly, proving that he was literally drifting out of consciousness. Liz took a seat beside the bed, contemplating the idea of leaving the twins in the care of Abe and Nuala yet again. She had no desire to spend the evening alone, especially knowing that Red was lying in another part of the facility recovering. She continued to grasp the demon's hand gently as he nodded off.

"What do we do in the meantime? The prince said that someone had attacked the forest and now you're saying that it looks like Rasputin is after him. How do we deal with this right now?" Liz said looking at the rest of her companions with concern.

"My brother can handle any foe that presents itself to him," Nuala replied. She suddenly felt uneasy. She hadn't really considered what the reprocussions of facing another immortal like that would be. If her brother had been bested by an arrogant demon, then Rasputin would likely be able to get in a good shot or two. She suddenly felt a sharp, searing pain in her left palm. She began to cry out, building in a few short seconds from shocked whimpering to screaming as a symbol began to burn into the pale skin. Abe rushed forward, followed closely by Meyers. Liz also sprang to attention, reaching the princess before the other two. She looked down at te she-elf's hand as the symbol finished appearing and the wound reached its fullest. Nuala gasped and trembled, leaning instinctively against the pyro as her strength began to leave and shock took full effect. Not wanting to be left out at all, Abe pushed forward more fully and also took hold of the princess's hand. He frowned and looked over at Meyers. "My brother . . ." she stammered. "Abrathair . . . Nuada . . . he is wounded."

"It must have been steel of some kind to make that kind of burn," Meyers announced from a short distance behind the three. Nuala breathed sharply and felt herself growing faint. She could tell that her brother was feeling something similar, but his training as a warrior afforded him more focus and strength in battling shock. She felt a twinge of jealousy for this every now and then when emotions had seemed to overwhelm her. At the moment, she was merely glad to know that neither of them was alone and that they could discern the meaning of this symbol rather quickly. Meyers got a better look as Liz slammed her palm into the call button for the nearest nurse. "It looks like a pentagram."

"Alfskros was the original name; it was a symbol stolen from the magical world by humans. It was marketed to the masses as protection against magical beings and then outlawed by the Catholic faith when word got out that someone in the pagan world held the patent," Abe explained as a nurse immediately entered the room with two others and took charge of the situation. As the three led Nuala out of the room carefully, Abe followed. "It is used like this only by those who wish to dominate the worlds beyond mankind."

Meyers looked at Liz and sighed. "Are you going to be okay?" he asked. She nodded and folded her arms, looking back at Red with clear irritation at being faced with two wounded friends in one night. She strode over to the bed and slipped into the chair beside it. "Do you want me to let someone know that you're staying here?"

"Yeah, that would be great," she muttered, fighting back tears of rage and sadness. She reached out and placed a hand gently on Red's chest, feeling comfort in the easing up and down with every breath and the strong pulsing of his heart as well. Ever since the injury he had suffered at Nuada's hand, she had been very glad to just be able to feel her husband breathing and his heart beating without pain. The sight of him bleeding and suffering still haunted her. She closed her eyes tightly and then turned back to Meyers for a moment. "You should go and see if Abe needs anything. Their son will probably be worried since he can feel some of what she feels."

The youth's eyes widened in surprise for a moment. A great deal of things had changed since his brief employment with this branch of the bureau. He nodded and left the room slowly, assuring her that he and Abraham would be nearby if she needed anything. He walked cautiously to the room where Nuala had been taken and stood in the doorway near Abe as the nurses continued to treat the burn and document the incident. Meyers had never really seen much in the way of emotion able to show on the amphibian's face; not that he could remember, anyway. Now, though, it seemed that his friend was experiencing an array of negative emotion to a great extent. He reached out and calmly placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. Abe turned and his gills flexed anxiously.

"The two share a link, brother and sister, what happens to the one . . ." Abe began.

"Affects the other directly. It gets stronger the closer together they are or if magic is involved," Meyers finished. Abe looked at the younger in surprise then nodded, slowly realizing that the agent had done substantial research. It was rare for Abe to come across someone like Meyers, but that was exactly why Professor Broom had chosen him. The man looked at the princess and tried to think of something to say to help his friend. "What do you think did this?"

"I think it's more of a question of who did this. Prince Nuada is not likely to just up and take hold of an Alfskros, especially one made of steel," Abe reasoned. He breathed deeply and felt his true love's heart rate slowing down as the pain faded and she was sure that nothing else was following. "It's a matter of who . . . and I think we will find that out just as soon as we know exactly what you were facing in the north."


	12. 11 Caveat Cavalcade

Chapter 11: Caveat Cavalcade

Lummeweiss breathed deeply and knocked gently on the ornate door of the largest wagon in the caravan. Vashti was rumored to have been the oldest Romani wise woman that any of the familia of any clan had ever known. Legends and myths that floated around the younger members in passing whispers and among the older parents in wonder when they thought no one was listening, said that the old woman had been blessed by the Erlking after offering her life to save her younger brother. It was said that the boy had been suffering from a magical curse and the family had sent for a holy man, but Vashti had not trusted the man in the least and had set off for the Erling's treacherous palace alone. For her selflessness, the ancient king was said to have given her both wisdom and immortality. All blessings come with a price and it was also said that for this gift, Vashti was doomed to live a life never knowing the love of a man, but always knowing the love of family. She quickly became a time-honored treasure among the Gitano and Romungro alike, remaining choovihni over one clan in particular and eventually finding her way into the more exciting world of Der Volkstein.

The she-elf waited patiently in the early morning cold after knocking several times. She shuddered in the chilled air, a less violent shudder than that which had awakened her moments before. A disturbing dream had stirred her and the images reeled backwards and forwards in her mind as she stood waiting for Vashti to answer the door. Rhonzo had been nearby, but could not understand what Lummeweiss had been describing and so had sent her immediately out to see the wise-woman. The young elf's heart began to race as silence met her and nothing else. She groaned a little in frustration and knocked more loudly. A splinter lodged itself in one of her knuckles as she knocked, prompting a shriek from her lips and a small stream of blood from the back of her fingers. She drew her hand back and clutched it tightly as the gold fluid slipped from the small wound. Another set-back to having human in her was the tendency to bleed more freely. She breathed sharply as her keen ears caught the sound of the old woman shuffling towards the door and then finally her hand grasping the handle. The old, wooden door creaked loudly mimicking a screech owl as it opened. Lummeweiss looked up and swallowed hard. Vashti raised one brow inquisitively and took one step down toward the girl, holding a lantern aloft. Lumeweiss quickly composed herself and bowed respectfully to the old woman.

"I- I have had a premonition, Mama' Vashti," she said softly.

"Come inside," the old woman instructed. Lumeweiss nodded and hurried in, moving past the older woman while still clutching her hand tightly and permitting blood to only flow onto the palm of the one clasping. Vashti remained at the door a moment, gazing out at the lingering darkness. She furrowed her brow and sniffed the air. "I smell unrest, a disturbance farther away than even we can feel."

"Do you think it is the prince, his army?" Lumeweiss asked, having been told that the court of Elfland had been experiencing a great deal of unrest over the past few years but recently was practically overthrown and reformed in a matter of weeks. Vashti shook her head and closed the door softly.

"No," she muttered. "I believe it is more than the elves . . . the trolls . . . it is something younger and yet older, and far more foul."

Lumeweiss frowned as the old woman sat down on a large, comfy lounge and pulled a thick blanket around herself. She motioned for the girl to do the same with an enormous afghan lying on the back of her chair. Lumeweiss took the mottled tapestry and wrapped it around her shoulders as Vashti leaned back and drew in a deep breath. She wondered if the old woman was talking about something to the east. No, that she would have mentioned by name; Vashti was well versed in many of the goings-on in other regions and the stories behind them. No, this was something sinister and looming in the near future. Lumeweiss felt herself beginning to shudder yet again, not with cold but with fear. Something was stirring unrest in magical beings and all those that could sense their presence. This was often not a good thing and the she-elf doubted that there would be any deviating from the usual at the moment.

(*)

"You'll have to keep this bound in order for the tincture to do any good for you overnight. Stay lying down and rest or that wound will fester and allow him some sort of wicked power over you," the physician ordered firmly. Nuada looked at him with a little irritation. He hated being treated like an invalid almost as much as he hated the injury. Titania, who had remained seated by the bed focused on Nuada as the physician had treated the wound, placed a hand tenderly on his shoulder. She had, in fact, been the only reason that he had consented to allowing the physician to treat it in the first place. Puck was glad of her presence, knowing that he could not have forced the elf with words to accept the aid and that Nuada felt he had all the skills he needed to tend to himself. The pwca sat on his rabbit haunches in the corner of the room, paws folded anxiously and eyes focused on the royal as well. Wink had decided to stand guard at the door, still very peeved at both the sorcerer and himself for the incident. The physician looked at Titania. "Make sure he sleeps and eats at least once this evening." He handed her a vial and a small roll of cloth. "He needs to drink from that before eating, what is left should be poured immediately into the wound and bound quickly. It is best to let very little of the elements touch that wound until it has had a chance to be sealed."

"I'll make sure it's done," Titania said with resolve.

The physician nodded and then turned back to Nuada once more. "Good night, your majesty."

The prince-king nodded in return and watched the physician leave the room. He groaned and sat more upright prompting Titania to move an inch closer and clasp one hand over his shoulder more firmly. He turned to her. "Physician, indeed, still using the same involved and ridiculously lengthy medicines. What good is the art of healing if cannot advance to something more efficient?" he complained.

Titania sighed and put her other hand over his forearm extending to the wound now bound with layer upon layer of cloth. She stroked his forearm and frowned a little. "Elves aren't about progress, humans are. Progress requires sacrifice and that's not what your medicines do. You have healers, humans have doctors; doctors believe in sacrifice," she explained. He looked back at her in confusion. "That's why we're willing to use chemicals."

"And rape the earth and harm innocent creatures to get them," he muttered angrily. Titania glared at him as a flash of pain surged through the lines and circle forming the shape of the alfskros burned into him. He cried out and clasped his hand tightly for a moment, breathing sharply as the pain subsided. He turned and looked at Titania, realizing the anger behind her gaze. He sighed. "Sacrifice is necessary only in war. If your doctors believe in sacrifice, then they base their entire system of medicine on violence."

"_**Your**_ doctors?" she said angrily. He frowned, realizing what he had just said although unable to compare them to the words that had angered her in the first place and necessitated his visit to begin with. He tried to think of something else to say, but the pain and frustration were creating too great a barrier for him. He turned away, clearly aggravated by his own limitations. Titania shook her head and stood slowly. "I'm going to go and get you something to eat. I'll be back in minute."

Puck watched her leave the room and then hopped over to the bed, placing his paws on the edge where Titania had been seated. Nuada shook his head slowly. "She has been given immortality, Puck. She is no longer human and yet she cannot separate herself from them," he reasoned aloud. "It will be a nightmare for her when the mortality of her family sets in."

"She _is_ still human, your majesty, and that is something you must accept. Her body may live past what is normal for her kind and her spirit has been given the ability to endure past its lifespan, but she is still human," Puck corrected. Nuada frowned and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to settle his thoughts. Puck shifted and raised himself a little higher. "She is still not quite sure of you, I'm afraid. She still fears you to some degree."

"Fears me? Ha! She never feared me, not once!" the prince laughed scornfully. His mind immediately took him back to their exploration upon first meeting and their excursion to the Riddle Glen. When she had heard that he had killed his own father, she had trembled and cried just like every other victim he had seized. He frowned. "No, wait, maybe once . . ." he muttered. Puck lifted one brow and gave the prince a side glance. Nuada shook his head. "But never since then. Not once after that."

"Then why did she leave the forest shortly after Oberon's defeat?" Puck demanded.

"Because she tasted death. She feared her own mortality, then, not me," he replied hotly.

"And you are a constant reminder of that. You are immortal-born, sire, and she is not. Deep down she realizes after seeing you wounded repeatedly and brought to the brink . . . even having died as she did, that it is still possible for her to suffer an untimely end and suffer," the pwca explained further. Nuada looked to the side, suddenly realizing the truth in his consul's words. "You make her feel weak with every blow you take."

"And what can be done to stop it, then? Am I to only see her in perfect health and dispatch opposition before any chance of showing . . ." another surge of pain shot through the wound in mid-sentence. Nuada growled and clutched his hand more tightly to him. He panted for a moment as the pain subsided and Puck stared at him in disbelief. " . . . weakness."

"Sire, it is not fitting for you to prevent any reminders of her weaknesses, or your own for that matter," Puck said as he scooted a little closer and placed his paw on the prince's forearm where Titania's hand had been. "You both need to know what makes the other weak so you realize how you strengthen one another. If either of you were whole, you'd never be able to live with each other happily."

"And what makes you think we can?" Nuada said sadly.

"Oh don't you start sulking again. If you're going to get discouraged every time she has some fit of emotion that makes no rational sense then you might as well resign yourself to the life of a bachelor and set your nephew in line for the throne," Puck chastised with his paws suddenly on his hips in a very didactic way. He quickly hopped onto the bed and looked directly into his sovereign's face as sternly as any tutor giving a lesson for the umpteenth time. "Titania makes you happier than any source of joy your kind has ever known and you do the same for her. If, heaven forbid, another emotion happens to come along and make itself known then learn to cope. I'll not be saddled with the two of you hurling your bad humor at me with each and every spat." Nuada turned away with an angry snort. Puck frowned and folded his arms. "And neither will that brother-in-law of yours."

Nuada turned back to Puck and glared at him harshly. Puck glared back just as hard and more unyielding. This was clearly something that had disturbed him for some time in silence. The door creaked open a little. The two turned and watched as the blackened nose of a cat made its way through. Both sets of eyes widened. The nose belonged to the snout belonging to the head of a very large cat. The rest of the head finally inched its way through, whiskers and all. Nuada and Puck both recognized the blank expression on Ravi's face as he gazed at them. A light went on the tiger's expression as the two heard him say, "_Fluffy_?" Puck gasped and shrank downward a little glancing right and left at the best possible place to hide. Ravi's eyes suddenly widened and he bounded through the rest of the doors. "_Fluffy_!"

Puck shrieked and, without warning, leapt onto the prince's shoulders trying to hid behind his head as Ravi bounded toward them. Nuada grunted at the sudden weight of his consul sitting, quite literally, on his shoulders. He leaned forward slightly as Puck instinctively dug his claws into the elf's flesh. Nuada let out a shriek and turned to watch as the tiger skidded to a halt in front of the bed. He and Puck exchanged silent glances and it confused the prince as to why the tiger would just cease moving like that. The animal grinned and lowered its body to the floor. Puck gasped yet again. "Oh dear," he muttered and tried to look for another escape seeing that the prince would not serve as a suitable fortress. Ravi began growling playfully and Nuada could see that an attack, malicious or not, was inevitable as the tiger's hindquarters began shifting from side to side and his tail curled like a wick. As Ravi sprang upward, Puck leapt to the side, scurrying under the bed. Nuada grunted again as Ravi clambered across the prince and onto the other side of the floor.

"_Fluffy_?" Ravi grunted as he continued to try and push his head through the bottommost edge of the bed. Puck hid at the head where the wall was flush with the rest of the fixture. Ravi growled more loudly and flopped onto his side. He swept toward the rabbit with one paw and then the other, never really reaching close enough to touch him, but close enough to frighten poor Puck into resorting to a fetal position whimpering. "_Fluffy, fluffy, fluffy_!"

"Oh for Aiglinn's sake, Ravi!" Nuada suddenly shouted. The tiger froze, in awe that the elf had used his name. It had only occurred once before and not to him directly. He sat upright and stared back at the royal in anticipation. "Out." Ravi snorted at him. "Out, now." The prince growled and pointed firmly, forgetting that he was used to using the hand that he had most recently injured and that the injury was aggravated by movement. As he began to shout another command, a very great surge of pain shot through his hand and moved fully up his arm. He could have sworn that it reached his neck and pierced his head as he withdrew his hand and began panting once more. Ravi frowned and cautiously climbed back onto the bed. He circled the prince once before situating himself behind the royal and lying down. He nudged the prince's arm with his head and purred loudly. The pain began to ebb once more as Nuada turned and looked down at his beloved's companion. "You are an absolute menace," he said with irritation. Ravi snorted again and scooted closer, laying his head on the prince's thigh and looking up at him as best he could. "Why on earth has she kept you?" Ravi grunted and pulled his body closer to the elf. Nuada sighed and placed his good hand on the beast's head. If nothing else, it was an interesting sensation to touch something with such a primal spirit contained in what could be considered an innocent existence. Ravi seemed to appreciate the gesture and closed his eyes. "I wish she would overlook in me what angers her the way she overlooks in you what angers everyone else."

The doors swung open once more and Titania entered followed by one of the other servants. She gasped at seeing Ravi lying on the bed and hurried toward them. The servant said nothing and placed the tray he had been carrying on a desk and left the room with a bow. The bow and exit went unnoticed as Titania stood beside the tiger and the prince. "How on earth did he . . .?"

"He must have been wandering in the forest again," Nuada replied. "I did set that enchantment for such occasions and there have been plenty of them."

"I wish mom hadn't brought him back into captivity. He should have gone to a preserve or something," Titania muttered as she tried to pry the tiger off of bed. Ravi grunted more loudly and coiled himself all the tighter around the base of the prince. "I really wish you had set up that enchantment to send him to my house instead of out here."

"It is a way of forcing at least one interlude," Nuada confessed. Titania let go of Ravi's head and looked at her prince sadly. "I knew that even if you were too frightened or angry to enter the forest again he would and you would have to retrieve him else I would have to deliver him."

"Do you really need that many excuses to see me? I'm the Ostara, we're obligated to see each other as often as the Sisterhood calls for it." Titania noted the nonplussed look on her beloved's features and smiled. "Besides, I sometimes think about leaving him with you."

"Oh no, not on your life. I have enough on my hands, thank you." Nuada looked down at Ravi with faux disdain. "I am not going to be followed night and day by a great, hulking beast with no manners."

"No, you've still got a cave troll," Titania quipped. This prompted a look of shock from the elf. She shook her head and withdrew the vial and cloth that the physician had given her. She sighed and looked down at his hand. "Before you eat, you need to drink some of this and let me bind your hand." She moved toward him. Ravi noticed her and snorted before scooting his head further onto the prince's lap and trying to get his muzzle under the bandaged hand.

"Well, kindly put the cat out first," Nuada said, an elevating tone of irritation becoming evident in his voice. She set the vial and the cloth down and reached out, taking hold of Ravi by the scruff of his neck.

"Come on, Ravi," she grunted. The tiger tried to remain stationary and growled in protest. "Come _on_."

The doors to the room opened and Wink stepped in momentarily. He grunted loudly and clapped his hands together. Ravi snapped to attention and, like a dog being called home by its master, trotted contentedly past the troll and out of the room. Wink grunted and slowly turned, leaving the room muttering to himself in his own tongue. Nuada smiled. "Well, if you need another home for him, it looks like Wink would be willing to take him."

"I wasn't serious, I don't want him to leave," Titania corrected as she took the vial and pulled the stopper out. Nuada watched her intently as she took a small cup that she had brought with her and poured the grey fluid from the vial into the cup nearly to its brim.

Titania handed him the small cup and motioned for him to down it. He kept his attention focused on her while swallowing the fluid, but found it necessary to squint and suppress coughing at the bitterness of the fluid whatever it was. Having been so accustomed to either the care of trolls or himself he was unused to such a foul taste. Titania fought away the urge to snicker. As different as he saw himself from humanity, he still looked like any other child forced to take medicine they loathed. She took the cup back from him and then sat down on the edge of the bed, taking his injured hand into both of hers gracefully. He continued to watch her intently as she began unwrapping the bandages. Her movements and focus reminded him a great deal of his mother and Nuala. He felt truly overwhelmed yet again by how much he desired her and the desire was growing stronger by the day.

"You have a gift; the ability to soothe and comfort is rare," he offered. She turned and looked at him, hesitating with a measure of the cloth still in one hand. "I believe that was the very first thing that brought us together, wasn't it?"

"I thought it was you're being stranded in a forest with no food or water after an ordeal," she replied, skeptic about this sudden turn toward tender words after still harboring obvious animosity earlier. He breathed deeply as she pulled the cloth away from the wound itself and brought the vial over his hand, pouring it carefully into the scorched symbol. He winced, but did his best to keep any real outward display of the discomfort from reaching her. After what Puck had told him, he thought it best to prevent any signs of weakness from being present between them again. "I almost miss those days. You were easier to understand then, I guess."

"Likewise," he said softly, unable to hide a grunt of pain and an instinctive jerk of the arm backward as the fluid spilled out into his palm. "I do believe things were easiest right before . . . before the eclipse."

"I almost refused to do the last task. It was immature, but I thought about it; you know, just to have a prince in the forest waiting for me for the rest of my life," she confessed. Nuada felt a spring of joy quivering three beats of his heart at those words. She smiled and looked down at the wound. The fluid was absorbing immediately in the symbol creating a less angry wound with each drop it drank. She stared down at it in amusement. Nuada noticed an odd colour moving across her eyes. "If I had to do it over again," she laughed," I think this time I would try just . . ." her voice trailed off as the lavender he had seen before completely covered her irises. He sat forward and fixed his gaze on her, trying to know what it was that had brought forth her talents. She stared down at the wound and a frown twisted her mouth downward. "He's coming for you . . . for Nuala. He won't stop." She turned and looked into his eyes. He stared back in shock as her breathing became far too heavy for simply speaking. She looked down at his hand, not willing to look up as she spoke. "He wants to kill you . . . he wants . . . Grindel . . ." He continued to stare at her, frozen in amazement and now fear as her eyes began glowing all the brighter.

"The wound must be covered," a stern voice interjected. Nuada and Titania were shaken and both turned to see Puck grasping the roll of new cloth and now furiously covering the wound. Nuada grunted in pain as the pwca finished tying the cloth over and over until it was firmly bound. He rested both paws over the bandage and looked back and forth between them before addressing Titania. "That kind of magic exists in our world simultaneously along the evils of humankind, it is a mirrored effect. You mustn't dwell on it for long. It conflicts with the gift you were given and that could spell disaster for you until you better learn to harness the power."

"Thank you, my friend," Nuada said gratefully. Puck turned to him, worriedly.

"Sire, I was going to wait to share this with you until morning, but in light of the circumstances I believe it is something rather pressing and needs to be shared now," Puck said. Nuada looked at him with concern. It wasn't like Puck to try and keep something unsaid for any amount of time when it wasn't a personal matter. "Jareth sent a report this morning , sire. They have reached Grindel's last stronghold. He wants your word on the matter, but requests that you issue a command to annihilate all those within it."

"At once, tell him he has my word and he may do this as he sees fit," the prince said quickly. Puc frowned. He rubbed his paws together anxiously and looked back at Titania for a moment. "Well? Go and deliver the message to one of his."

"Yes, your majesty," Puck replied sadly. He hopped off the bed, looking at Titania once more. "Right away."

"And tell him to send me word the moment Grindel is dispatched," Nuada called after him.

Puck hesitated at the doorway, clutching the edge of the door and leaning against it almost remorsefully. Titania watched him, confused as to why such commands would make the rabbit-fairy so upset. He nodded and rubbed one paw against his head for a moment. "Yes, your majesty," he muttered. He turned and hopped out of the door. "At once," the last audible comment came from the doorway.

"You don't think that there was something else, do you?" Titania asked.

"That is not in his nature," Nuada replied. "It is part of what makes him so wonderfully indisposable."

"He seemed unusually sad for some reason," Titania commented. Nuada reached out and gently put a hand on the side of her face, turning her to face him. She looked down and sighed heavily. Nuada moved his hand under her chin and tried to lift her gaze to meet his. She sighed and finally looked back at him. Relief filled him at her gaze and the calm it brought to them both as she let go of the pwca's display and concentrated on only what was sitting in front of him. She reached up and took the hand cradling her face into her own hand and moved more fully onto the bed sitting right beside him. "You need to rest."

"Will you stay with me?" he asked hopefully.

She smiled and looked to the side, coyly for a moment, then turned back to him and nodded. He breathed a sigh of relief and thanked every available power in the universe. That made at least a small stream of things that had gone smoothly since her last sway that distanced her heart from his. All he needed to do was keep it going for the next thousand years or so.

(*)

Late that night, Nuala felt the burning in her hand return. She groaned and shifted. Something was wrong. As well as the humans and even Abraham had taken care of her, she still felt that something was terribly wrong. She suddenly felt the urge to look at the wound itself once more. She pulled furiously at the bandage and stripped the cloth and gauze away from her palm. The shape was difficult to discern in the dark at the moment and the salves made it all the more difficult. Something was different about it, though, very different. She furrowed her brow, allowing her keen eyes to adjust to the darkness as she looked more closely at it. In a flash, the symbol contorted silently. Her eyes began trembling as the shape morphed into the wyvern that signified her uncle, Beowulf. She gasped. The symbol twisted and contorted all the more, seeming to try and shake itself free from her hand. To her surprise, that is exactly what it did, hovering in front of her for a moment as if just a pencil sketch drawn in the air.

She gasped and watched in shock as the symbol reared its head back and let out a piercing shriek. While shrieking the head shook violently until it became the face of a creature unlike anything she had ever seen. She screamed at the vision in return. The creature suddenly rushed forward, flying straight into her throat. She coughed violently, trying desperately to call for Abraham immediately. She suddenly felt paralyzed and found that she could produce no sound, no sound whatsoever. She frowned and clawed at her throat as she felt a burning moving through it and deep into her chest. She screamed and writhed madly, finding that she was still unable to make any sound or productive movement at all. Panic filled her and the sound of her own heartbeat became too loud to bear any longer. Just when she was sure that she would die from terror and exhaustion, she heard familiar sound.

"Nuala? Nuala, can you hear me?" Abraham shouted. The darkness, pain, and resonant pulse ceased as his voice reached her. She found her senses returned to her and that she was lying in the bed in the hospital wing where she had fallen asleep. Without a word she leapt forward and embraced her husband, sobbing furiously. Abraham held her gently and tried to soothe her with his own mind. "You were having a nightmare, a bad dream."

Nuala looked down at her hand seeing that it was still bandaged. Something had changed and it made her ill to see it. A small stream of blood was now trickling from one of the edges of the bandage. She breathed sharply and closed her eyes, gripping Abraham all the more. "Something is coming, Abraham. Something I cannot fight," she whispered.

"I will," he said firmly and quickly. She relaxed into him all the more at his words and buried herself in the comforting sound of his heartbeat. "Whatever it takes, Nuala, I will protect you."

"I will need it," she muttered as unconsciousness beckoned her yet again. _I will need you and it seems we will all need my uncle_, she thought. _There will be blood, Abraham, and I pray it will not be yours_.


	13. 12 Polite Conversation

Chapter 12: Polite Conversation

Jareth waited patiently outside the entrance to the natural catacombs that was Grindel's dwelling. A few of his finest goblins were waiting not far away, but Jareth ordered them to stay at a distance until he had a better grasp of what the terrain within looked like. Goblins had decreased in numbers greatly over the past centuries, being used as slaves and so on by the unsavory magical creatures. Oberon's defeat had strengthened the resolve of the goblins in destroying their enemies and made all those in the militant service of Jareth more bold than ever. Still, being so endangered in their breeding, the goblin-king was not about to lose anyone in battle unless absolutely necessary and scouting, he felt, was not something that necessitated the sacrifice of a soldier. He turned and gave a quick nod and wave of his hand to one of his captains, signaling that the officer should stay put while Jareth went to see about the specifics himself. The other goblins were less than enthused about their sovereign heading into the enemy stronghold alone, but they trusted that Jareth would be back in no time with a report and battle plan. Jareth grinned as the scent of the old troll became clear enough to follow. He darted out from the bushes and into the caverns. His footsteps barely made a sound as he sped through the darkness, keeping close to the walls and darting around stalagmites. Any other being that could see in the dark might have compared Jareth's movements to being as graceful as an elf, nearly as splendid as Nuada's. He breathed deeply and continued to speed through the darkness like a missile, his target dead ahead. Jareth could now smell that he was nearing Grindel's throne room and that there were only a handful of trolls around him. That itself made the goblin halt and listen for a moment. Grindel was not by any means courageous and the idea of him being so unguarded was unnerving. Jareth listened carefully and took in more of the scent. Grindel had very few trolls around him at the moment, so where were the rest of them? A large pair of hands suddenly seized Jareth by his shoulders and slammed him into the ground. Jareth grunted in pain and scrambled to get to his feet. One of the fists that had seized him suddenly slammed into his face. A spray of blood from the goblin's nose and mouth filled the air as Jareth tumbled back against the wall of the cavern. He reeled and tried to gather his senses as the assault finalized with a set of irons around his wrists and a magical band around his throat. He groaned, realizing that he had been careless and that there was no one to help him out of this situation for the time being. He cursed himself angrily and assessed what he could of the situation as he was led further into the caverns. There was a large troll on either side of him, he could smell and hear that now. Grindel had been able to summon magic enough to hide the presence of these trolls and likely to hide the majority of the rest of his court, explaining why Jareth had been unable to smell them. His eyes were too swollen and pulsing too greatly to be able to open them enough to see exactly what he was up against as he felt himself dropped to the floor. There were more trolls around wherever he was; likely the throne room or some other chamber where Grindel was seated with many of his minions. Jareth's nose filled with the troll-lord's scent and the goblin nearly retched at how strong it seemed now. He heard Grindel laugh scornfully as he tried to sit back on his heels.

"So this is the great commander of King Nuada's army," Grindel sneered.

"_**Prince**_ Nuada Silverlance, he is still called, but king of the realm all the same," Jareth corrected firmly. One of the trolls nearest him swung at his head again. This time Jareth had the focus to dodge the hit as the troll's fist passed, but also the strength to lash out and give the troll a nasty bite on the wrist. The troll shouted in pain and clutched his hand, whimpering. The other trolls in the room laughed at this, prompting Grindel to raise one hand and call for silence. Jareth smiled, now able to sit back on his heels and think more clearly. "How do we do this, Grindel? You know for a fact that either I will leave this place bludgeoned and ready to give a full report to his highness, or the prince will come and retrieve what is left of me and destroy you without a report of any kind. That would make him very put out indeed."

"That elfling's comfort is not a priority of mine, Jareth, and the idea of a final audience with him on my terms is so very tempting . . ." Grindel mused. He looked down at the bloodied goblin with great relish. It had taken a great deal of research and practice to make the trolls undetectable to goblin magic. He had been very pleased with himself for this progress and it was making him more theatric than ever before. Jareth chuckled inwardly at the thought of Grindel becoming too cocky and winding up a quivering puddle in the middle of his own throne room. "Still, it seems a waste to have you rotting in a cell when you could be recovering for round two."

"Then I suggest you make this quick and send me on my way," Jareth replied. He was beginning to find Grindel's confidence irritating beyond belief. Grindel sensed the irritation and the acknowledging of his power; it was satisfying. "_**Prince**_ Nuada will be expecting a report before nightfall."

"The prince is currently recovering from wounds of his own," a new voice announced from the entrance to the throne room. Grindel straightened and glared at the figure that now entered his presence. Grindel vaguely recognized the man's features and voice. It belonged to one of the human sorcerers from days past that had managed to attain power from the netherworld and not completely succumb to madness. Grindel snarled and rose slowly. Which one was this? It didn't look like Nostradamus or Merlin. This one smelled like he was from the east in some of the coldest regions dominated by humans. Grindel's hideous features twisted in frustration as he tried to recall the man's name. Rasputin strode up to where Jareth sat and looked down at the goblin in the most condescending and yet amused manner that he could muster. "The fool grabbed a steel alfskros in midair. Pity, I should have aimed a little better and struck his chest. Disappointments aside, I will have a good hold on him in no time at all."

"I find that very difficult to believe," Grindel snorted. He moved forward a little and noted that Jareth was barely able to open his eyes, still squinting at his surroundings intently. "What do you think, Jareth?"

"My opinions are inconsequential for the time being," Jareth replied in a bored tone. "Besides, Rasputin's definition of 'magic' pales in comparison to what we know and manipulate ourselves."

"Grigory Rasputin, yes. I do believe Jareth has a point; real power being beyond mortal reckoning no matter what promises have been made to that same mortal by anyone in the netherworld," Grindel replied. He gestured to the trolls nearest him to surround Rasputin with weapons drawn. The trolls obliged immediately, each wielding at least one over-sized nasty blade stained with spatters of blood and rust. Rasputin glanced at the group of trolls, raising one brow confusedly. Grindel reached out with one hoof and kicked Jareth off to the side. "Would you like to give me a pathetic, human reason as to why I should not torture you for a century and then mercifully kill you?"

"No request to live made by a human has anything to do with reason," Rasputin hissed back. "I must, however, warn you that this is making me uncomfortable."

"And something tells you that such information is important at all to me?" Grindel laughed. The trolls around them laughed heartily as well. Rasputin frowned, curling his left hand into a fist. Power from the dark netherworld surged through it along with a smidgeon of Lucifer's presence. Grindel raised a hand to signal for silence as he stepped in front of Rasputin, looking down at the sorcerer in the most intimidating manner possible. "Do you have anything clever to say before I destroy you?"

Rasputin smiled and whirled around, thrusting a mass of negative energy into the crowd of trolls behind him. Blades clattered to the floor as a loud scream filled the room and suddenly went silent as the bodies of the trolls were enveloped in the energy before it disappeared. The other trolls gasped and hurried away from the sorcerer timidly. They muttered to one another, staring back and forth from their master, Grindel, to the new threat, Rasputin. The glowing green aura that was encircling the hand slowly faded into nothing and the old Russian straightened himself to appear as calm and collected as ever. Grindel raised one brow and scratched his chest, impressed with the display although not frightened by it. Rasputin smiled and bowed slightly to the troll lord.

"I apologize for the outburst, but I cannot permit such impertinence in my presence," Rasputn said smoothly. Grindel snorted and placed his hands on his hips firmly. "Perhaps we might put hostility aside for a moment and I can continue to introduce myself and my offer."

"Offer?" Grindel said. Rasputin smiled and glanced over at Jareth. "What sort of offer, old man?"

"I believe it would be best discussed after you finish sending the goblin king back to his superiors," Rasputin said with an icy glare at the royal. Jareth frowned and felt a large pair of hands seize him yet again. His eyes were still too swollen and stained with blood to get one last look. He growled softly in frustration. Grindel motioned for the troll that had a hold of him to take him back outside the caverns. The troll nodded and lumbered out of the room dragging Jareth behind him. Grindel turned back to Rasputin, breathing heavily in anticipation of the sorcerer's offer and all its details. Once he was satisfied that Jareth could hear no more of the conversation, he strode past Grindel and examined the throne carefully. Grindel watched the sorcerer, waiting for the man to try and sit in the throne which would create a perfect reason for destroying him. A loud shriek made all the trolls left in the room turn and try to locate it. The shrieking grew louder as the shadow of a wyvern suddenly appeared in the doorway. It seemed to be just a dark sketch of a small wyvern, but it was flying through the throne room straight towards Rasputin. The sorcerer turned to face it and held out his demonic hand. He reached into the air as the wyvern hovered in front of him, snatching it from the air. A wisp of dark air wafted around his fist for a moment. The trolls watched in amazement as he drew his hand up to his mouth and then appeared to swallow the darkness. Grindel's eyes widened and he found himself wanting to know everything about the 'offer' before another moment passed. Rasputin cleared his throat and folded his hands neatly behind him as he turned back to Grindel. "I now have assurance that the prince will be 'controllable' from here on."

"What do you have planned for the little brat?" Grindel asked, practically giddy to hear about the destruction he was sure to describe. Rasputin smiled back. He held up his hand and looked over it very contentedly. "Something slow or something magnificent?"

"Both," the sorcerer replied with a hiss. He savored the feel of his spell implanting itself in the elf's heart. Rasputin was unable to discern that it was Nuala and not her brother that he now had control over, but the sheer fact that one of the ruling elves was tainted by his power would prove helpful either way. His plans were coming together more and more every moment.

(*)

Titania stirred. She had been nodding off and shaking herself back to consciousness for some time now. It was her intention to stay awake throughout the night and keep a good watch over her beloved, but exhaustion from all of the upsets of the past day was proving too strong for her. She groaned and turned to face him, lifting herself up on her forearms. She was situated above the bedclothes with an extra blanket draped over herself. Nuada lay peacefully, eyes closed softly and expression completely serene. His chest eased up and down with slow, deliberate breaths. She reached over him and placed her hand beside his wounded limb, trying to ascertain whether it was healing or not. She smiled at noting that he was too asleep to awaken when she touched the hand. As she moved to settle back onto the bed beside him, a strange sight caught her attention. Standing not far from the bedside was a large, white bearded stag. The fur on this creature looked very much like the hair on one of the elves and his eyes were as amber as an elf's as well. His antlers were massive and extremely impressive. She stared at him in surprise and disbelief as he stood watching. He seemed focused on the form of the sleeping prince and now his gaze turned to her directly. He lifted his muzzle and sniffed the air pensively.

"Titania Rhiannon Manning?" the stag asked. Titania stared back at him inquisitively and in shock. He knew her name? More importantly, he spoke her name. He took one step forward and seemed to smile. "I had hoped to see you at least once before my time ended."

"Who are you?" Titania asked softly. Balor could see that she was trembling and wasn't sure whether or not he was an apparition. The typical human fear was present in her at being faced with a specter; whether she recognized him fully or not, his aura was familiar and it was difficult for her to tell outright whether he was a genuine ally or one of the many examples of evil taking on a beautiful form. "What are you doing in the palace?"

"Do not be afraid, Titania. I am more kindred a spirit to Nuada than any other being that dwells here," Balor said kindly. The girl seemed to relax at his words, sensing that he was being truthful in his claim as a kindred spirit. The stag grinned more brightly. "I am Balor, once the king of Elfland and now a protector of Bethmoora forest," he replied slowly. The name was all too familiar to her, but she was sure that the being that had borne the name for thousands of years was dead. Titania's eyes widened; at first she felt overwhelmed with shock to hear the name of Nuada and Nuala's father being spoken by a strange creature and then excitement filled her at the prospect of speaking with her true love's father. He noted the recognition in her eyes, pleased that the response was not at all negative or fearful any longer. "I am Nuada's father and I have been charged with the protection of the forest until I amend for abandoning it."

"You were dead," Titania whispered. "And now you're a , a . . . deer?"

"Something like that," Balor replied. He glanced toward the door then back at the girl. "Come, I wish to speak with you."

Titania slipped off the bed, looking back at the prince for a moment. She contemplated rousing him from sleep. Surely he would want to know that not only was his father alive again, but that he was in the room. Balor chuckled softly and stepped toward her, looking at his son with distant affection. "He already knows that I live. I will speak with him when he is recovered," the stag said with a contentedness in his voice that Titania knew must have come from seeing his son in a form that had graced his childhood. _All beings_, she had stated in a philosophy thesis, _are united in sleep_. _Sleep transcends, genders, ages, races, and ideas; it is the same for us as infants as it is for us when we are adults in its purest form_, she had written and was sure that this was exactly what Balor was thinking. She breathed deeply and reached out, brushing a lock of hair away from his face. He groaned and shifted, muttering something in the ancient tongue. Titania smiled; his voice as lovely enough, but when he spoke in his native language it was all the more beautiful. Titania heard shuffling at the other side of the bed. She watched as Puck shrank back into rabbit form and climbed onto the prince's chest. He raised his head and nodded to her, signaling that he would keep watch over the prince until she returned. Balor turned and strode towards the door. "Come, my dear. There is much I wish to know from you."

"I'll be back in a minute, Puck," she whispered. Puck nodded to her and laid his head against the prince's chest. Whatever the old king had to say to her, he was sure it would take some time to say it.

(*)

Thomas Manning sat at his desk, flipping through the piles of paper that had been left on his desk only a few hours ago. Each document was another segment of the information from the incident, or rather, incidents in Antarctica. Several of the documents were reports from the agents a few from the Marine officers themselves. There were several photographs and charts as well. Manning looked over one of the photos of the base that had seemed to erect itself overnight with insignias and materials belonging to the Nazi regime. He sighed heavily, holding up one of the photographs featuring Agent Hellboy gesturing toward the buildings with only one finger on his stone hand. Manning frowned, knowing well that he had coerced one of the soldiers into taking the picture and that there was likely a copy of it floating around on Ebay with the promise of an autograph to the highest bidder. He turned to his computer and began the onerous and repeated task of searching for any liabilities online. Sure enough, the photograph came up instantly in the search and was currently going for over $300,000. The thought that selling a few of these photos himself would make him comfortable for the rest of his life and allow him the tools necessary to perhaps disappear for a brief sabbatical and then run for the senate in any of the states crossed his mind. It was jarred out of focus as a loud knocking came from the door.

"It's after hours," Manning said loudly and with more audible irritation. The knocking continued and Manning sighed heavily, shaking his head. "Come in."

The door opened. Manning looked up and watched as three men entered the room; two agents, not dissimilar to the BPRD field operatives, flanked a more important and 'political' figure. Manning frowned and stood as the man entered. He recognized the man as Service Agent Earle Coxswain. This man was the chief of security and information to the President of the United States and had been in the occupation for no less than a decade. Manning had been introduced to the man and the two had disliked each other from the get-go. Coxswain saw Manning and the entire BPRD as a constant threat and a bad joke to the entirety of the US while Manning saw Coxswain as arrogant and overpaid. Since their initial meeting, efforts to try and dissolve the BPRD had been increased. The efforts had doubled following Professor Broom's demise and then tripled following the relocation of the facility itself. The two stared at one another in silence for a moment. It was Coxswain that broke the silence first.

"Dr. Manning, has the BPRD prepared a report for its efforts in regard to threat made by the Bethmoora Clan?" Coxswain asked emotionlessly.

"What threat? There haven't been any threats made by any of the elves or others like them as of late," Manning countered. Had there been any real threats made then his connection to the reigning prince would have alerted him to it immediately. If nothing else, he thought, Tania would have known about it before any other human no matter their occupation or authority. Coxswain frowned at him and gestured to one of the men flanking him. The agent reached into his jacket and withdrew an object Manning hated seeing more than anything, a manila envelope stamped with the phrase 'Top Secret'. Manning accepted it silently and sighed as he opened it. His gaze narrowed as he saw an aged piece of parchment with fresh ink calligraphy. This was most definitely not something that had been created by just any government agent or diplomat, not a human one anyway. He glanced over the writing and sneered, shoving the envelope back into the agent's hands. It did look like something that Nuada or Nuala might have written, but Manning knew that the subject matter was beyond what either prince or princess were concentrated on for the moment. "That's a mistake, a-a-a-a ruse to keep us focused on something unimportant."

"Are you sure about that?" Coxswain replied, lifting one brow and giving his malicious intentions away with a slight smirk. Manning folded his arms and leaned back against his desk. The other agent cleared his throat and withdrew the parchment, reading aloud from it. "By order of his Royal Eminence, Prince Nuada Silverlance, king of all realms above and beyond mortality on earth, all trolls that bear arms are to report at once to Jareth, the goblin king, and make ready to attack the enemy stronghold within a fortnight." Coxswain looked over at Manning more firmly. "This was confiscated this morning from a paranormal being seen heading for Brooklyn in the direction of the reported entrance to the Troll Market. What enemy would that be, Dr. Manning? I understand that the prince feels that he is at war with humankind."

"You're about three years behind, Earle," Manning laughed. He felt more confident after hearing the words read aloud by another agent, one not familiar with the inner-workings of any of the paranormal worlds. It almost made the aging bureaucrat feel completely superior and overly confident to be so in the know by comparison. He gestured toward the parchment, still grinning. "He ordered all of the trolls to report to Jareth. I've met Jareth personally, and the prince. They are continually at war with rogues of their own kind. He's probably gathering the trolls to help fight the last enemy or enemies left behind by Oberon."

Coxswain stared at Manning in disbelief and agitation. He had hoped to make the older man disquieted with news like this and send the bureau into a panic that would require more government intervention than ever before, perhaps even call for its destruction. He shoved the parchment back into the envelope. "There is another matter," Coxswain said, not wanting to feel completely defeated by Manning's calm. The bureaucrat nodded and waited for the rest of the information. "We have received word from our liaison in the UK and the EU as well as from two other sources that The Golden Army is still a threat."

"Not with the prince focused on other tasks," Manning said dismissively.

"Focused or not, the president was informed of the incident surrounding the first encounter with the Bethmoora and wishes to prevent any further activities that might lead to violence," Coxswain replied firmly. Manning snorted indignantly and folded his arms once more. "He feels it in our best interest, along with the ruling of five justices, that the crown be handed over to homeland security."

"Well that's not my department, now is it? If the president wants something from the king of the elves, then it would probably be more direct to speak to, Oh I don't know, an elf?" Manning shot back. Coxswain growled. Manning was usually more panicked than this at the sheer mention of his authority being questioned. For him to direct the agent to another source of authority and not want to take control was almost out of character for him. There must have been something else, something that the bureaucrat hadn't informed DC about. "If you want me to arrange for you to speak with Prince Nuada Silverlance, then I'm sure I can get him to agree to an audience within the next three months or so. In the meantime, there are bigger fish to fry. I'm in the process of drawing up a report, or at least I was before the interruption, about the next threat facing us. An old enemy seems to be rearing its ugly head."

"All the more reason to attain the ultimate weapon for our own protection," Coxswain said. Manning shook his head, knowing well that this would be only the first instance of a nation's government wanting control of the Golden Army. Manning had been told that the army itself was useless without the crown that Liz had destroyed, but he wasn't going to inform anyone else of that just yet. As long as the executive branch was under the impression that the crown was still in existence and that Manning was the suitable emissary to his majesty, then maybe, just maybe, he could finally get the respect he deserved. It would be temporary, of course, with the crown being destroyed and all, but in the meantime he could at least savor a modicum of respect. A small beeping interrupted the conversation. Coxswain pulled a small communicator from his belt and answered in code. The two agents on either side of him turned and he nodded quickly to them. "We'll continue this at a later date, Dr. Manning," he said angrily.

"Anytime," Manning replied. He felt a great deal of satisfaction wielding such power over another agent. For years he had been made to feel like he was in a constant state of ridicule. Since the building of the new facility and the defeat of Oberon, his spirits and esteem had much improved. This was, of course, a serious blow to the rest of the bureaucratic higher-ups that loathed the actions of the BPRD. Manning had once been among them, but the more involved he made himself with the actions, the more powerful he felt. He wondered if this was how the prince felt night and day since childhood. He watched the three leave the room and sighed. A thought ran through his mind. What if the crown hadn't been completely destroyed? He shook that thought away and sat down at his desk. Another thought popped up. What if the prince was rallying trolls to fight against humans? He shook that thought away and looked down at the rest of the photographs and the computer screen. It didn't matter, nothing could happen that wouldn't warrant Manning using his most powerful weapon against either the prince or the trolls. Manning was sure that, while Agent Hellboy might have been a rogue himself, he wouldn't say no to any assignment that would allow him to use his fist. The situation in Antarctica definitely took priority, but perhaps it might be a good idea to remind the prince that there were boundaries as well.

(*)

Titania looked around as Balor led the way through a part of the forest she hadn't seen before. He had maneuvered them through a portal that led out directly into the forest and had been silent the whole time. She watched him cautiously, still unsure of why the king would want to speak to her and not to his son. After a few moments in the forest, Balor explained how that he had made his presence known to Nuada before he had gone back to the Americas to give her the mantle of immortality and offer her the position of Ostara. As they continued to walk, Balor spoke about the past three years and how he had managed to remain on earth, serving a purpose for both the forest and his son. She wondered for a moment why he had kept this a secret from her, but then she realized that it was not important for her to know that Balor was protecting the forest when his time was sure to be brief. Balor commented that the powers over them had seen fit to allow him more and more time as he proved himself necessary. "In truth, I find reasons to stay and keep myself occupied for a rather selfish purpose," Balor confessed. Titania stopped moving as he did the same and hung his head a little. "I want to see my grandchildren."

"You haven't seen Leopold yet?" Titania asked in confusion.

Balor frowned and breathed heavily. Tears formed in his eyes and he looked away as only a few fell. "I have not seen my daughter since being brought back to the forest," he said sadly. "I had hoped, after seeing how pleasant being in love had become for him, that my son would have produced an heir of his own by now. But it happens that Nuada has taken a great deal of time in courting you, far too long if you ask me."

"I know," she added softly. "He must have told you about how we met, about the tasks, and about what he wants for the future."

Balor smiled. He could tell from the girl's tone that his son had been too preoccupied or frightened to ask her to be at his side for a lifetime. He knew for a fact that his son wanted this and that Titania wanted to hear it, but he had no intention of being the one to convey these feelings on behalf of his son. The boy would have to gather strength and resolve then assert his intentions fully to her. He slowly started walking once more, glancing up at the moon every few seconds. "He has told me many things about you," the old king said. "Hardly a moment has passed in my presence between us where he was not speaking of you or thinking about how next he would approach you."

"I wish he would say more of them to me. I'm beginning to think that I can't have a normal relationship with him," she said uneasily. Balor hesitated and looked at her more intently. "I just want more than a few hours to . . . well, do things that other couples do."

"And you expect that the romance blossoming between the ruling prince of the magical worlds rebirthed from a tragic end and a young woman of the forest also rebirthed from a horrific end given the mantle of immortality and a place among the sisterhood as the Ostara should have all elements in common of the romances between humans?" Balor asked with a laugh. Titania frowned and looked away, rubbing her arm anxiously. "Even the millions of varied love stories among your kind do not have all the same elements as one another. The only constant through them all is one being's affection for the other."

"I'm not saying I want things to be the same as they are for average people; I just want to be able to have with him what my friends have with their significant others. I want time to cuddle and to see him whenever I want and . . ." she sighed and leaned against a tree, too flustered to understand even what she wanted to convey. Balor stopped and waited for her to continue. "I don't know what I want, I suppose."

"Neither does he, not really. At the moment, I believe both of you are sure that you love the other and that you want that love to be manifested more fully. Believe it or not, he is every bit as timid and unsure about this as you are," the stag said. He moved to her side and looked up at the sky. The cold of the night was allowing his breath to make wisps of fog haloing his already pale and haunting form. "Perhaps more unsure than you."

"I find that difficult to believe. He's always been bold and confident around me," Titania replied. Balor laughed and shook his head.

"I will tell you something else you will find difficult to believe, but you must not let it create pity for him that would overwhelm your love for him," Balor offered. Titania turned to him and nodded. "My son has known that he is marked differently than the rest of his kind. Ever since the goblin curse was placed on him, he has been a source of silent ridicule among his own kind." Titania looked at Balor in surprise. Balor sighed and shifted his weight as he stood. "Even with its removal he bears the reminder of the curse itself and some of its pain still haunts him. The markings made him . . . well, we'll call it awkward, around the dignitaries and nobles of court throughout his life. His mother was the only one that never seemed to see them."

"They're beautiful, I can't imagine him without them," Titania said. She thought back to the last sight of him sleeping. His pale skin was offset perfectly by the darkness enveloping his eyes and forming over his lips perfectly. The royal scar added the last beautiful individuality that made Nuada's appearance. "I think he would look too pale, maybe even like the walking dead, without them."

"And yet the women of our race find him marred, unattractive," Balor replied. Titania gasped, finding it as unbelievable as Balor had predicted. He turned to her and stared at her firmly. "That was not told to you for pity. I simply want you to understand that he is not without his own flaws, real or personally fabricated. For every ounce of uncertainty and fear that you experience, he bears some other fear or flaw of his own."

"Is that all you wanted to tell me?" Titania asked, more confused. She had already surmised that Nuada had traits to mirror her own. Anyone with compassion or the ability to analyze a situation would have known that. It only made sense that the thoughts and feelings on one end of a relationship would be just as present and important in the other. Balor smiled and circled her for a moment.

"No; I have longed for some time to finally know the creature that has captured my son's attention and made him think," Balor replied. He looked back up at the moon. "This is not the first time he has been in love, mind you, and not the first time that it is with a human, either. He wouldn't admit to anyone now, but I knew more than he gave me credit for in his youth. Still, you are the only being he was willing to wait for," Balor commented in amusement. Titania's eyes widened at these words. Come to think of it, Nuada had been very impatient since they had met and hated for anything to take more time than he desired. "I wonder what it is about you that has drawn his attention since being reborn."

"I'm not anything special, not really," Titania replied with a shrug. Balor lifted one brow at her and snorted. "Well, maybe being the Ostara counts for something, but that wasn't going to happen without him."

"He seemed unsettled when the forest was attacked, not because of the attack itself, but because I could sense he was hiding something from you," Balor continued. "What was it that came between you?"

"The crown was remade," she said unhappily. Balor froze, feeling as though some distant sin had found its way back to him. Titania shook her head. "That's another thing; he still seems hostile toward humans."

"It was part of his upbringing and partially my fault, I'm afraid," Balor added. He hung his head once more. "I was afraid that this might happen. I am very glad that he told you before it was awakened again."

"He says that it's for protection, not to attack anyone at the moment," she continued. Balor grunted and looked behind them. The forest was clear, but he was sensing something unusual nearby. He shook his mane and looked back at the object of his son's affection. "What do you think?"

"I think that it is late and you are weary. I have wanted a few moments to speak with you for some time. I am glad to have had this opportunity to converse," he said nodding to her. "And I am very glad to have seen that my son is not mortally wounded."

"Then someone already told you about Rasputin?" she asked.

He nodded slowly. "What they could tell, anyway. I am sure that the sorcerer's presence has something to do with the forest having been attacked," Balor said looking up at the sky once more. "I feel that something else is churning in the magical realm, something that will give the sorcerer the advantage he needs to try and claim all facets of the earth once and for all."

"Well, even if Nuada can't take him down, I think my friend Red might be up to the task," Titania offered.

Balor smirked at the mention of the demon. He would have liked to have seen Nuada taken by surprise when fighting the demon years ago, but just hearing the stories was enough for now. He had never seen the demon himself and didn't know all of what the creature was capable of. Still, the story of the last destruction of the sorcerer and the thwarting of the Ogdru Jahad spread rapidly throughout the magical worlds long before Nuada had returned from exile. A strong breeze whipped past the two. Titania clutched her shoulders and began to shudder. The old king noticed this and turned, walking slowly back towards the portal leading into the palace. "Come, I am satisfied with our conversing for now," he said. "It is time you were back at your vigil over my son."

"Wait, your highness . . . sir, I know that he is still harboring hatred to some level for humanity. I don't understand; how can he love me if he hates what I am?" she asked. She had been asking herself, Puck, and even Nuala at one point, this question for some time. None of the friends that she asked ever had a straight or coherent answer for her, not anything that she felt was good enough. "Does he really love me, or is he in love with some sort of illusion?"

"The nature of love is to remove any illusion," Balor replied. He stopped and breathed deeply, remembering Aine'. Their union had, at one time, been frowned upon by the rest of the magical beings. It still haunted Balor that several of his own family had been relieved when she had been killed. He shook his head. "True he will never see you as entirely human or even entirely immortal. What he does see is the compassion and tenderness that completes him and satisfies a longing, an ache he had tried desperately to ignore as a warrior. He sees your traits, your best, not what you are."

"Then he isn't really in love with me," Titania said sadly.

"Come now, do you love him as an elf?" Balor asked. Titania looked at him in bewilderment. He smiled. "Whether or not he sees you as human is not important. You see past his markings and he sees past your mortality. Even as a member of the sisterhood, you still have a mortality to you. Both of you seek the other's spirit and spirits, with very few exceptions, are free from the constraints of the bodies they inhabit," Balor explained. He stared back at Titania, hoping that she was intelligent enough to understand. Nuada had assured his father that he was sure the girl could comprehend philosophies beyond time and space, but the boy's vision could have just as easily been clouded by adoration. "Do you understand what I say to you?"

Titania hesitated a moment, then nodded. "I think so," she said softly. She breathed deeply and smiled at what was sure to be her father-in-law. "Yes, I think I understand perfectly."

"Very good," Balor said. He turned back to the rest of the forest and led the way to the portal. He had accomplished two tasks in speaking with her; finally meeting with his son's beloved and discovering what it was that the prince was trying to keep from him. While the re-forging of the crown was disturbing to say the least, it was a relief to know that his son felt obligated to the safety of a human that bore a great deal of understanding and wisdom. At least in this, he would think of her well-being before doing things as rashly as he had tried to do repeatedly throughout his life. Aine's death had left the elf without much guidance and Balor sensed that in Titania his son might finally have a sensible voice of reason overseeing his mood and commands. The two walked back through the portal and back into the bed chamber.

Titania turned to Balor, her face level with his own. She bit her lip and looked uneasily from side to side. Balor recognized the look in the girl's eyes; she wanted to ask something, but she wasn't sure of how best to say it. He looked back into her eyes calmly, beckoning her to speak her mind without limitations for at least a moment. She rubbed her shoulder and moved less than an inch closer to him. "Your majesty, uh, sir, would you mind if I . . ." she stammered, losing a necessary grip of the vernacular in the middle of one complete thought. Balor huffed, though not impatiently, signaling for her to continue. Titania hesitated a moment and then, without a word, placed both her arms around his thick neck, burying her fingers and face in his soft, blonde fur. Balor smiled, closing his eyes and pressing his head against her as best he could without his antlers making things all the more awkward and uncomfortable. Titania breathed in slowly, recognizing the familiar scent of stone that Nuada carried with him as well as the scent of forest life, a combination of morning dew, afternoon sunlight, and the last wafts of wildflowers before night set in. She smiled and tightened the embrace. It felt normal to have spoken to her beloved's father and to re-affirm both the prince's affections and her own. After a few moments more, she straightened herself and released Balor. The stag felt a slight ache as she pulled away and looked back down at him. "Maybe, sometime in the future, I'll see you in your proper form."

"I would like that, but it is not for me to promise," the old king replied, trying his best to sound optimistic and kind without breaking any protocol in dishonesty.

She nodded and looked back toward the bed where Nuada and Puck still slept. Balor bid the girl a good night and left the room, heading back into the forest as quickly as possible. Titania walked slowly back over to the bed, trying to compute everything that had transpired in the talk with Balor. She climbed back onto the bed, pulling the extra blanket over herself and laying her head against the shoulder not leading out to his wounded hand. She wanted more time with him at rest and this was the perfect opportunity, one that was not likely to repeat itself any time soon. She snuggled closer to him and situated herself between his arm and his chest. This felt wonderful and practically at the level of 'normalcy' that she thought she wanted with him. She closed her eyes as Puck stirred. The pwca was glad to see that she had returned. He waited for a moment before trying to go back to sleep, wanting to be sure that Titania had not heard something distressing from the old king. No, she was too at peace to have heard something troubling. Puck yawned and stretched a little before curling back up into a furry ball and drifting off once more, situated comfortably on the prince's chest. All three lay silently on the bed, each grateful for at least one of the other three being present and each settled into a state that transcended not only physicality, but also any troubles or tribulations the days ahead threatened to bring.


	14. 13 A New Plan For Today

Chapter 13: A New Plan for Today

"What do you mean formulate a plan of action? We don't have enough information to formulate anything!" Dr. Manning exclaimed. Officer Connor stood in front of him with his arms crossed and a stern expression on his face. Manning had filed a brief report following the appearance of Nuada at the bureau and his complaint about the attack in the forest . . . several days after the prince's visit. Connor had interrupted the writing of the report and had gone on to ask as many questions as possible about the elf. That had irritated Manning and led to Connor trying to change the subject by asserting the need to act against the enemy that had appeared in the Antarctic. The Marine's expression changed only when the man's eyebrow lifted slightly in amusement. Manning scratched his head and began breathing heavily. "We are still trying to scrape together the facts from our agents that were up there. I am just so glad that no one was killed this time. If Red was gone, we'd be up the creek without a paddle . . . no, wait, without even a boat."

"We know the general location of the enemy, the area of their first attack, and at least one of them is in a Gundam suit," Connor replied firmly with a refreshing touch of sarcasm. Manning frowned and shook his head. He had never felt comfortable in the same room with accomplished military personnel, but being across from a Marine commander for special operations that had just faced off an enemy with Agent Hellboy was even less pleasant than simply meeting with a few recruits sent to guard the facility. Connor strode around Manning's office over to a large, marble globe and pointed to Antarctica. "Look, it isn't that big and whatever we're after can't get too far that quickly. Give me some more of your agents, preferably the big, red guy when he's recovered, and we can kick this."

"It's not in anyone's best interest to 'kick' anything until Dr. Krauss gives me a full report," Manning countered. He popped a few antacids into his mouth anxiously and sighed. Connor smirked at the gesture, expecting the bureaucrat to spontaneously combust at any given moment. Manning trembled slightly as he chewed, trying to contain the fear that was flowing through him. Rasputin and Kroenen had killed Professor Broom. Broom had not only been a dear friend, he had been the greatest asset to the bureau (not to mention the only person that could really contain Red) and had even been considered more intelligent than Abe. He rubbed his bald forehead pensively. "We'll wait at least another day . . . at least," he breathed. "We'll let Red come back around so that everyone can give a full report and then I'll make a decision."

"I respect that," Connor said, trying to give most of the power in the room over to the man before he delayed things any longer. Connor had learned several months ago in going through 'emotional intelligence' training that many people in his presence felt intimidated and that he could communicate with them more easily if he allowed them to be empowered. "So you've been like taking care of him in this place for years, right?"

It was a pertinent question. As public as the idea of Hellboy had become, there were still hordes of information that people wanted and had little idea of how to get it. Most people wanted to know where the demon had come from, how he had come to live among humans, and why he had chosen to work for the BPRD. Connor was more interested in understanding what kind of man would have had the balls to take in a demon. Judging by the demon's behavior, he had not been given the nurturing influence of a woman, he had been the product of a very confident single father with a lot of patience. Manning frowned, feeling more faced with the memory of Professor Broom and his demise. He shook his head and turned back to the Marine. "It's a long story. Why don't you go and get me a report from your men before we start going over things tomorrow?" he offered, trying to take the conversation in a different direction so that it would end quickly. "That would certainly make my decision easier."

"Absolutely, sir," Connor said. He rose, nodded to the man, and then left the room.

Manning watched the youth close the door behind him with a great deal of relief. He sighed heavily and slipped back into his chair. He leaned over his desk, resting his head in his hands propped against his elbows. What was he getting into now? Not only was any chance of being a senator gone, but now he was sure he was going to be killed. He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a small bottle of vodka that he kept hidden. It was one vice that the man had kept in his closet that never seemed to make him feel guilty. He took a quick drink, wincing as the burn moved from his mouth down to his already irritated stomach. He exhaled sharply and put the bottle back in the drawer. He needed to sleep at least one more time before his world came tumbling down.

(*)

Titania had stayed asleep by Nuada's side for the better part of the morning and afternoon. When the prince awoke he saw and felt Titania sleeping peacefully beside him and Puck curled up on his chest, his head pressed against Titania's. He sighed and held his wounded hand in front of him, examining it carefully. He felt something stir at the foot of the bed and craned his neck to get a better look at it. The prince noted that Ravi had fallen asleep sprawled out over the foot of the bed. A grunt and soft growling caught his attention. Nuada turned and now saw that Wink had fallen asleep leaning against the wall seated not far from the bed. The prince allowed his head to fall back against the pillow, closing his eyes with a slight disapproving shake of his head. He tried to allow himself to drift back to sleep and analyzed the possibility that the group had only been sleeping beside him for an hour or so.

"Hardly the norm for a court called to meet," a familiar voice announced from the opposite side of the bed. Nuada turned immediately and, without thinking, gasped at the sight. It stirred Puck and Titania both who sat upright and looked from the sight of the startled prince to the form of a battered goblin. The captain of Nuada's armies, Jareth the Goblin King, stood very wounded and yet resolute at the bedside of the elf and his companions. Titania scooted back quickly against Nuada, staring at the goblin in horror. Jareth, one eye still very swollen, bowed his head and grinned. "I apologize for waking you, your highness, but I could not wait to deliver this message any longer."

Nuada placed a hand on Titania's shoulder before moving closer to Jareth. The goblin frowned, realizing that Rasputin had not been bluffing in speaking of the prince being wounded as well. "What message, my friend? What happened to you?" Nuada demanded. "I was told you were seeking Grindel and his forces," the prince remarked glancing at Puck with disapproval. Puck glared back at the prince and folded his arms. "Did something stir your bivouac?"

"Hardly; I infiltrated the brute's fortress and paid the penalty." Jareth seemed quite calm about his description and the events that must have transpired before his thrashing. "I believe it was a small price for acquiring such important information. Not only did I get a feel for Grindel's forces, their potential and his achievements, but I also learned of the next foe that he plans to band together with to stand against us. Though, I believe that the fight against you will be a more pressing concern for them at the moment."

The prince turned back to Titania; he sighed heavily and moved to the edge of the bed, still favoring his hand. Titania started after him. "Wait here, Titania," he commanded in a firm, but kind tone. She frowned at him and watched Raavi lay his head back on the bed and drift back into a typical feline sleep. Puck looked up at his master inquisitively, asking silently if he should also wait with Titania or if he should accompany the two for the sake of information. Wink followed after them, not wanting to allow his master out of his sight again. The three convened in the hallway a short distance away from the door. Nuada did his best to not make any movements toward Jareth as he reeled during his story. The prince felt concerned for the leader of his armies and truly distressed at the thought of him being so easily overtaken, but the goblin's pride had not yet been wounded and the elf knew better than to deliver that blow. He nodded, folding his hands neatly behind his back and hiding them as his fingers pensively stroked the bandage still covering his own wound.

"I am not sure how Grindel has managed to acquire that kind of magic, your majesty," Jareth said with a sigh. "And it is likely that the sorcerer, Rasputin, will only serve to double, perhaps even quadruple, that power."

"Unless he is dispatched quickly," Nuada added with a sharp tone. Jareth's expression changed as the troll who had lumbered after them into the hallway gave a roar and raised his metal fist in agreement. It pleased Nuada more than anything to have his man-at-arms so ready once again and with blood-sport not far away. "I believe we have enough assassins at our disposal."

"Do you really think that a host of trolls and goblins would rather bow to a rogue elf than Grindel?" Jareth asked. Nuada frowned at him. His words were to the point and had been accurate; despite his royal title, Nuada was still having to prove his position and power on a daily basis. Had it not been for the diplomacy of Nuala and the terrifying Wink, he might not have risen to have loyal subjects further than a few citizens of the troll market itself whose businesses he frequented out of necessity. The thought had crossed his mind that the minority of trolls that served Grindel could have grown in number depending on what motivated their loyalties. Jareth looked away and drew in a little more strength. The prince was reviewing his words, but it would take another jab to provoke real thought and action. "Most would sooner find themselves bowing to a human sorcerer."

Wink roared in anger and took three great strides forward, standing over Jareth and raising his fist. Nuada turned hurriedly and caught his friend's wrist in mid-air, straining against the troll's strength even given his own. Wink growled and looked down at Nuada. Titania had made it to the doorway with Puck close beside her whispering to her that she should not view any conversation in private, and at seeing the situation, recognized the look in Wink's eyes as one of a minion whining 'let me at 'em, boss, let me at 'em'. She covered her mouth and stepped a little further away from the door as Nuada finally forced Wink's arm back down and told him that Jareth spoke out of fear and not disrespect. Jareth then added that the sorcerer created an even greater problem if not immediately addressed. He reminded Nuada that if the old Russian had summoned Anung Un Rama from Sheol, than he could just as easily summon other beings as well. "And then what will you do? Ride into the Otherworld and command the Tuathenia and Dyfed to follow you into battle?" Jareth asked with just an ounce of spite building in his quivering voice. "It's madness to think that we could outlast a Hadean fleet."

"A concern that is not yet pressing, Jareth. Try to focus on what faces us and not what keeps you awake at night," Nuada replied hotly. Jareth shook his head. Rasputin's power had yet to reach its fullest and Grindel would make a perfect puppet for him. Grindel . . . he was the only seedy lord under Oberon that could have claimed royal birth among the trolls. A wisewoman had once foretold that Beowulf, the brother of Balor, would destroy Grindel single-handed. Of course, that prophecy had long since died with Beowulf, and his twin went on to destroy many armies 'single-handed' that were certainly not Grindel. Still, the fact remained that not one, but two enemies were now threatening the kingdom . . . three if he wanted to press the issue about those governing humankind at the moment. No, he knew how simple humans were. It would be easy to make them afraid of Grindel and Rasputin both; they would rally to his side like children to a nursemaid if he gave them a significant target. The other two would be overwhelmed by human forces, not by their ability to do damage, but simply by their numbers. A brief smile entered the prince's mind at thinking of how many humans would be killed in the process . . . how easily their numbers could be reduced in such a battle. "Though perhaps it would be wise to call on certain others in positions of power for their support." Jareth watched an unsettling grin form on Nuada as he turned away and looked into the distance. "I have yet to truly unify our people, after all, and then there is the repair of the truce with mankind to consider," he reasoned aloud. Jareth groaned inwardly, Wink outwardly, Puck gasped, and Titania felt an enormous twinge of joy as her heart leapt.

"You really think uncovering _not so old_ wounds with a skittish race of children is going to win you a war against the Underworld or the Gods of Chaos?" Jareth said unhappily.

"I don't recall a war being declared by the Underworld, Jareth," Nuada corrected. The goblin muttered something foul under his breath and clutched his bleeding shoulder with another muttered curse. "As a matter of fact, war has not been declared by anyone."

"Since you declared war against humanity," Jareth added.

Nuada waved his hand dismissively. "That was a good three years ago. Time is on my side for better spirits in . . ." he hesitate, trying to think of a word that was nonabrasive and yet wouldn't come back to bite him after the issue was resolved and humans were back to their old habits. The word finally came to him after thinking about what Nuala would use to describe it. " . . . diplomacy."

"You're no diplomat," Jareth muttered under his breath.

Nuada turned to him angrily. The goblin shook his head and took a step backward, expecting some sort of heated reprimand. Instead, Nuada turned toward the rest of the hallway and called for two servants. Jareth paused, completely immobile and expecting some harm to befall him. The servants arrived in a blink and bowed to their sovereign who ordered them to escort Jareth to the infirmary and to see that he received rest and anything else he desired for three days. The two nodded and gently led the way. Jareth, although grateful for the unusual kindness from the monarch, still felt aggravated that Nuada was proving too arrogant to see reason. The humans might have been simple and weak willed in large numbers, but they did not forget wrongs easily. His call to war would be used against him, the goblin was sure of it. The elf, however, felt nothing but confidence and resolve welling within him. It had been a good, long three years since he had been able to start training once again for a battle with specific enemies. Oh, how he would enjoy every bruise and bleeding sore acquired in preparation for meeting Grindel and that pathetic sorcerer. As he turned to go back to the bedchamber, he was startled by the sight of Titania. He was not sure how long she had been standing there, but she was directly behind him. The two exchanged silent glances for a moment and there was an odd and unusual energy behind Titania's gaze. Was she breathing heavily? Why?

"Titania, are you . . ." he began. He found it necessary to stop with the last word, though it might have been possible to still speak with Titania kissing him forcefully. She breathed heavily and, despite his larger size and presence, was able to overtake him enough with the kiss to force him back into the wall. He grunted in surprise as his back hit the cold stone, but found it impossible to resist the onslaught. He wrapped his arms around her, grasping at one shoulder with the opposite hand and occasionally grasping a lock of soft, dark hair. Titania grasped more forcefully clinging to his chest like a vine to an oak. The two could hear Puck protesting this from a distance away. As his voice began to get closer to them, Nuada heard Wink take a heavy step in the pwca's direction and seize him, allowing his master a moment more of what seemed to be the highlight of the evening. After what seemed like a warm, sensual eternity, Titania pulled her face away and looked down for a moment. As she caught her breath, Nuada began to recollect his thoughts. Whatever he had done to cause this sort of reaction he wanted to be clear and take pristine notes. She looked down at his bandaged hand, now resting against her forearm. She gently took it in her palm and looked back up at him. He examined her eyes carefully, unable to see past the wondrous jade and hope of adoration. What was she really thinking . . . why had she made such a sudden display of tenderness? He finally found the presence of mind to ask. "Titania, what . . ."

Again, another, and this one more passionate than the first. His eyes widened. He didn't want to interrupt this for anything, but why in heaven's name couldn't she have announced a reason. Surely it wouldn't be too much to ask for her to simply state what had made her feel so amorous. A slight twinge of anger moved through him at thinking that he was still going to be in the dark about the reason; no doubt she would forget by the end of the evening, and it would be another torturous wait until he found the right way to ensnare her for good! Wink could no longer contain the smaller and more animated form of Puck as he became an even smaller rabbit before hopping over to the couple and trying to situate himself between them. Unable, he sat less than a pace away from where they stood, trying to become a more human version of himself. He finally managed to acquire a form that resembled a mixture (too taken by emotion to fully transform) and speak more loudly at the two. "This is exactly why I told you to go home after you had finished tending to him! Do you have any idea what kind of impropriety this is? I am your consul and I demand that you heed my demands . . . now!"

At this, Titania finally pulled away, further than she had the first time, and looked back toward the bedchamber. A thought crossed the prince's mind and he shook it away as quickly and fully as he could manage, though desire seemed more pressing now than even the enchantment in the forest had created. He remembered his oath to her father and how frightened she had become in the forest and felt himself center. His mind was still spinning as Puck firmly took Titania by the hand and led her away, chastising the two audibly and visibly. Neither seemed to pay attention to this and Nuada still wanted to know what had prompted this behavior, but he was content to watch his beloved led away by the pwca, still smiling because of him. Puck would lead Titania and Ravi home neither worse for the night away. The prince turned back to Wink, who stood waiting for further instruction.

"Wait here and see that Jareth does not approach the door, Mr. Wink," he commanded. Wink grunted and watched his master head back for the bedchamber. "I have much to consider and prepare." The troll nodded and hesitated outside the door. Whatever was going through the elf's mind at the moment, it had brought about the same smile that had crossed the prince's dark lips when heading to the surface to leave his mark for humanity. While the troll had difficulty grasping much in the way of irony, he found it amusing that the grin was now because of a human's affection.


	15. 14 The Discovery of Trees

Chapter 14: The Discovery of Trees

Rasputin looked down into the large cauldron that he had set in front of himself and the aggravated Grindel. While the sorcerer was engrossed in the flickering images of various figures of human authority and even some of the officials in the magical realm, Grindel was quickly bored with the observation and felt it quite tiresome. He shifted and grunted every so often, prompting an angered glare from the sorcerer in the form of one hand raised until it was obvious that Grindel had received the message and remained still. After several more moments of this, the lord of the trolls could take it no longer. He stood and growled loudly.

"What use is this to me? If I had known all you wanted to do was stare into a stewpot, I would have set you to work in the kitchen and not my throne room!" the troll shouted furiously. Rasputin sneered, ignoring the troll's comment for the moment and looking more intently at an image very familiar to the troll. "Hmph, staring at the prince is not going to put his head on my wall. I want him killed, not watched from a distance."

"And patience is the only way to ensure that he does not turn the tables," Rasputin corrected. He had already checked in on Zinco and made sure that the man had made all the appropriate calls to the government to set a distracting fire under the BPRD and to send more resources to the north. He waved a hand over the fluid, smiling brightly. The image that had been burned into the prince's hand was also present on the sorcerer's. It began to glow as the old Russian lowered his hand closer to the surface of the water. It rippled and surged, changing its image as his fingers barely brushed over the form now appearing. The sorcerer snarled at what appeared and harshly smacked the surface of the water. "Damnation!" he swore loudly. The image of the innocent and lovely Nuala now played across the water. Rasputin recoiled, muttering angrily about this predicament. "I cannot destroy the one without the other. Why was that spell not powerful enough to take him? I felt it take _him_ and yet I cannot reach through the portal without that wretched princess in the way!"

"Perhaps with the link it took her instead, being the weaker vessel of the two," Grindel offered in slight mockery. Rasputin turned and glared at the troll with one eyebrow raised as if taking these words into sincere consideration. Grindel huffed and turned away. The troll pondered this for a moment and suddenly became overwhelmed with another cruel remark for the old magician. He laughed and strode over to Rasputin as he still knelt in front of the cauldron. "Perhaps your magic is only strong enough to take a female!"

Rasputin growled loudly and whirled around, catching Grindel by his massive throat. The troll, caught completely off guard, coughed and gagged as the Russian lifted him effortlessly off the floor. For the first time in his life, Grindel felt truly afraid for his life. The strength that the Russian seemed to have at the moment far surpassed anything that he had ever seen before, even in Oberon, even in Nuada. The doors behind the two burst open and a loud, lumbering set of footsteps began making their way toward them. Grindel craned his neck around the Russian's fingers and noted a large beast had entered the room. It appeared to be mechanical, but not something of goblin-craft. An open and glassy section on the machine monster revealed a severed and rather hideous human head, gurgling and snarling through the fluid it floated in. The troll's eyes widened as the homunculus bowed to Rasputin as best it could.

"I have arrived master," it hissed.

"Very good, Kroenen," Rasputin replied with a smooth grin. He dropped Grindel without warning and strode back over to the cauldron. He folded his arms behind his back and watched the image of Nuala more cautiously for a moment more. Another figure suddenly entered his sights, prompting a more broad grin and a more narrow stare. A child, obviously an heir and son of the princess. He seemed to have another essence within him, but the Russian could not truly pinpoint it from a distance. He stroked his beard for a moment as he pondered it. The boy's eyes were strange, almost inhuman and definitely not entirely like an elf. A recollection from an unnatural source brought recognition to the sorcerer. The frog-man or fish-man that had helped destroy Sammael, Abraham, that must have been the boy's father. Rasputin growled softly at thinking that yet again that pesky and petulant demon would be involved on an intimate level. He turned back to Kroenen and grinned. "I shall return in a moment with the next part of our plan," Rasputin said firmly. Kroenen nodded and stepped over to Grindel, looming over him as ominously as possible. Grindel watched in amazement as the sorcerer reached a hand toward the cauldron with the Alfskros glowing on his palm. The water surged up and engulfed the man starting at the wrist and slowly working its way up. In a few moments, Rasputin had disappeared into the cauldron and Grindel was glancing in, eyes fixed on the sight of the sorcerer approaching the frightened princess.

Nuala stared in horror at the sorcerer as he appeared in the room. Her hand began to pulse with strong heat. She looked down at her palm and noted that the symbol that had burned in on it was glowing brightly. Rasputin smiled brightly at her, noting that she had quickly set Leopold on the floor behind her. The child remained still, sensing his mother's sudden anxiety. Rasputin said nothing and Nuala found herself frozen in fear as he raised his arm and lifted a hand between them. He flicked his wrist back toward himself and Nuala felt a sharp stinging in her chest. It quickly turned into a burning that moved through her throat, the opposite of the strange incident the night before. She opened her mouth to cry out at last when the surging pain became more than she could bear. At that moment, the same strange wyvern burst forth, a mere pencil sketch twisting and contorting with a horrible screech. She watched the symbol fly back to its master and fold neatly around the marking on his palm, a match to her own.

"Do not be afraid, princess, it is your brother that I seek for now," he said. Nuala stared at him in silence, watching as he turned away from her. "I apologize for such a brief and unannounced audience, but I simply had to retrieve what you had taken from me." Nuala felt her resolve beginning to weaken and trembling take over. She tried to keep herself steady as she stood in front of her child. "Now, I do hope the demise of the prince bears no ill effect on you. But then, that is a risk that has faced you since birth."

As the sorcerer began to disappear, Leopold suddenly raced out from behind his mother. Nuala shrieked, the first sound she had been able to really make, and hurried after him only to find her blood had pooled where it did her no real good. She collapsed onto her knees as Leopold flew at the sorcerer, hands balled into fists at the heralding of the plan to harm his uncle. Rasputin turned immediately, seeing the boy and an opportunity. He seized him by the shoulders and held tightly as the magic of teleportation surrounded them. Rasputin knew that the destination would be slightly askew with a new passenger, but he was more than willing to make a second trip if it meant taking such a precious bargaining tool. The world tilted and phased around the two until the forest surrounded them. Rasputin knew that they had made it a little past halfway to the Black Forest, they must have been near the Forest of Bethmoora, the next largest of the portals that the most powerful users of magic had created.

Before Rasputin could cast the next spell that would hurl them back into Grindel's throne room, he felt the boy's fist make contact with his breastbone. On any other creature, the boy might have broken off the xiphoid process, but Rasputin's strength afforded him more protection. The sudden shock and slight pain the boy had caused were enough to grant him a few seconds of freedom. As Leopold bolted away from the sorcerer, Rasputin heard a strange noise behind him. He turned, noting a presence he had not seen in years. It moved toward him, glaring angrily. The sorcerer snarled and hurried backward as the unicorn advanced. He turned and shouted in the distance so that Leopold could hear. "Wherever you are, you cannot protect your uncle, your mother, nor your father from me. I will return, little elf, and you will see my true powers!"

The unicorn whinnied loudly and reared upward, pawing its front legs at the sorcerer. The creature's presence of purity stung brightly at the sorcerer. He hissed and coiled backward, muttering the spell that would take him back to the throne room. The mission had been fruitful; he had unsettled the princess, left a warning with the child, and retrieved his curse for the prince. The work was getting easier every minute that passed.

Leopold had run blindly until tripping over a particularly large root. He had sensed and seen Rasputin's plans when the man had taken hold of him, a trait he had he had inherited directly from his mother. Something within him told him that he was most certainly not anywhere near home and that he had to get back as quickly as possible before any further harm came to his family. He had never been aware of being in danger before and had never left the safety of the bureau's compound before, either. This was a frightening day of firsts and the sea-elf felt overwhelmed as he hit the ground. He curled his legs up to his chest and scooted into the hollow portion of a tree, leaning outward as a sort of wooden tent. Leopold gathered his senses, trying to analyze with little experience what he should do next.

The only way to get home was to move, staying put would be the absolute worst thing to do, he rationalized. He slowly rose and stepped out into the light, his eyes adjusting immediately to the change. They widened in awe at what now stood before him. He rubbed them for a moment, convinced he might have been dreaming. A broad smile crossed his face as he realized that this was real and that it was beautiful. This was quite possibly the most beautiful and magnificent thing he had seen in all his life. The images that had shown him Pandora could not hold a candle to this majesty. Around him were towering oak trees, birches, and yews all whispering to one another in their silent, native tongue about this strange new apparition in their forest. The wind moved through their branches with soft rustling of their leaves. Every second a leaf fell from one branch or another like rain, creating a veil of golds and reds that showered onto the forest floor.

Leopold breathed deeply and admired the sunlight filtering through the trees, catching the green of the moss and the various shades of purples, pinks, and blues in small flowers around many of the trunks. A large yellow and white chamomile blossom peeked through the leaves every so often, greeting Leopold with its brilliant colours and faint scent of apple and sweet grass. He had never been surrounded by so much life, so many wonderful colours not bound in ink, so many grand sights. The sounds of chirping birds, the call of a loon, chattering from squirrels and chipmunks, and even the occasional sound of an irritated owl filled the woods. Leopold could hardly believe that all of this was real and he could not imagine anything more amazing. A large collage of orange and black suddenly caught the boy's attention. A monarch butterfly hovered in front of him for a moment, appraising the odd royal. The boy shrieked with delight and, as the butterfly turned to go on with its day, hurried after, enchanted by the flutter of its wings and the lovely shape.

Nearby, Balor heard the boy's shriek and then a pair of unfamiliar footfalls racing through the forest. He frowned and hurried to see about this intruder. As he drew nearer to the sound, he felt his blood begin to grow cold. Whoever this was, its scent was reminiscent of Nuala. His heart grew heavy for a moment thinking about how much he missed his daughter. He had seen Nuada since being reformed and charged with protecting Bethmoora Forest, but he had not had the privilege of seeing his little princess again. He inched forward cautiously, taken aback only for a short second as a monarch butterfly flew past his snout. He grunted and reared his head back as it fluttered past. His ears perked upward as the intruder, obviously unaware it was being tracked, rushed into the clearing where he stood waiting. His chilled blood positively froze at the sight that met him. Was it Nuada? No, it had been centuries, millennia, since Nuada had been a child and this elf could not have been more than three years old. Still, its eyes and lips were somewhat darkened, but by a deep blue and not black. Balor took one step forward, gazing deeply at this child.

Leopold stared back, shocked at the sight of a stag. He had barely seen pictures of these creatures. They looked far less fantastic than a hexapede or a viper-wolf, but their majesty had always made him feel so much smaller just in drawings. He stood perfectly still and watched the stag take a step forward. It amazed him how the creature managed to carry a head with such a large set of antlers and not fall over. The stag slowly, carefully, and deliberately approached him, lowering its head to get a good look in his eyes. Leopold stared back in amazement. Something in this creature reminded him of his mother and his uncle all at once. He reached one hand up and placed it on the stag's mane.

Balor grunted, causing Leopold to jump backwards a pace and a small moment of silence to pass between them. After Balor was sure that he was not dreaming, he smiled proudly and then frowned. Whatever had brought Nuala's son to the forest had left an awful scent on him. It bore the same evil that the humans in the forest had carried with them when destroying the tree that had killed Donovan. Balor turned and gestured for the boy to climb on his back, lowering his neck and shoulders as low to the ground as he could. Leopold stared back at his grandfather, sensing familiarity but unsure of how to place it. While this creature was not as fantastic as the six-legged thanator, there was something more magnificent, more inviting about it. He climbed onto the stag and took hold of his mane as Balor lifted himself off the ground and began bounding back toward Bethmoora. He smiled proudly. No matter what tragedy had caused this, it was undoubtedly the best day he had experienced since being restored.


	16. 15 An Intrusion

Chapter 15: An Intrusion

Roderick Zinco sat impatiently at his desk, glancing at the clock on the wall as if blaming it for the slow passage of time. He drummed his fingers anxiously against the marble desktop and glared hatefully at the spindly hands moving across the white face, mocking him with their deliberately slothful procession. He muttered angrily under his breath and looked down at the papers Rasputin had left with him. He had been forced to make photocopies to give to five of his finest and most experienced employees before sending them to search for an item . . . a very rare item. He had also destroyed five digital copiers in the process and subsequently four of the five sent had been brutally killed; that was more personal resources than he had been willing to spend on the venture from his end. Why couldn't the old sorcerer send some magical servant after this? Humans were expendable and irritating, but until he was rewarded he needed certain ones of them around, namely the ones he had invested in. He waited a few minutes more before his impatience got the better of him. He slammed his fist into the table and growled. A light flashed on his desk phone, signaling a slight distraction for the moment. He breathed deeply and pressed a bright, red button.

"What is it, Abbey? I'm waiting for the project in Western Europe to report back," he said angrily. He heard an uncomfortable shift over the intercom.

"It's the board, sir. They're here for your meeting today," she said timidly. Zinco rolled his eyes and groaned. He could only imagine what Rasputin would do if he found out that it had been three days with no results in finding what he had asked for. He sighed and shook his head. Whatever the consequences, the IRS would be just as frightening if he didn't keep up with the board meetings. "Sir, should I send them in?"

"Fine, send them in," he muttered. He glanced back at the clock, cursing it before turning to a mirror and straightening his tie. "I'll get this over with." The doors behind him opened, allowing a procession of men that Zinco knew would be just as irritating as the seconds ticking by unaccomplished. He stepped through the large glass doors and into the board room unhappily.

There was always an inexplicable gloom hovering over every board meeting for Zinco Enterprises. Roderick Zinco himself never truly noticed it and quite possibly had been the one generating it. No one would ever dare say it aloud, but the executive carried a cold air of mischief about him. The mischief was not an innocent sway toward pranks and rude jokes as it was in most adolescent minded men, but toward total control over the people around him and in wandering just what all he could do to or do with anyone in his service. There was something about the tiny, dark eyes of the man set too far into his skull and yet still able to pierce another's soul that made everyone around him with a conscience a little more than uncomfortable. Some of the other executives swore that, while Zinco had never shown himself to be the proverbial Scrooge, he carried a chill with him that penetrated the air around everyone in a six foot radius.

Nevertheless, once a board meeting was called every able bodied executive made their way into the scantily furnished board room and awaited the word of their ring leader. Today's meeting was no exception. Rumors had been flying around various branches about the controversial experiments he had commissioned recently in the research and development labs both at the corporation and in his own estate. Truly while Zinco might not have been the business equivalent to a Scrooge, no one argued that he could easily be seen as the scientific equivalent of a Frankenstein. Roderick Zinco turned and faced the room where the eleven silent men sat. Each was comparably older than he in appearance and wore a well-manicured suit tailored specifically for them. Zinco wondered if any of the men on his board had ever known what it was like to live a lifestyle with anything less than six figures. It amused him that human greed and consumption disgusted him and that it fueled his purpose, or rather, his master's purpose, as well. This was just another example of the necessity of vermin at any given point. These were not his finest, after all. All creatures could be seen as a trifle nuisance and all could just as easily be proven to hold the world on its shoulders, he had been told.

He glanced around the room proudly each aged face some with hair on the face and/or head and more of them without either. Most of them wore thin-rimmed glasses set at the end of their noses, as if waiting more impatiently than their wearer's for the news the chairman had promised. The man set down his heavy, double leather briefcase on the table and motioned for his receptionist to close the door. She obliged quickly, relieved to be free of his attention as she sat back at her desk. Zinco had been sent back to inform the board members of their role in Rasputin's plan. The sorcerer knew that the reaction would be scorn and laughter, but he had plans for the energies and even bodies of each. Zinco had no idea when exactly his master planned to carry out the grisly task, but business was as usual for today and he could use it to cause every board member to walk away laughing thus freeing the rest of the day for Zinco himself to go back to the lab where he could make changes of his own on the even newer, better suit for Kroenen.

"Gentlemen," he began calmly. "I have returned from Antarctica safe and sound. Let me tell you, after what I've been through these past few days, I would have been glad to have some of that global warming coming my way." There were more laughs at this dark jest than Zinco had anticipated. Then again, if Prince Nuada (Rasputin's current focus) was right, then all of these men would have found bringing in a harbor seal and beating it to death just as funny. Zinco smirked at realizing that he and the elf might have had a similar disdain for humankind. "I've brought back a few samples of some things for the R and D lab and I'd like for the Sigma Team to get on them right away. And I am still waiting for our project in Western Europe to return some results before the end of the week."

"Now wait a minute, Mr. Zinco; we discussed at the last meeting that any and all procedures in the R and D lab would be voted on by all of us first. The budgets for using the labs have been a tremendous drain on our profits," one of the oldest members interjected firmly. Roderick glared at the man angrily and began circling the table. There were a few soft mutters from the rest of the table as Zinco neared the man.

"I was quite sure that, being the founder and greatest contributor to this company, that no one would have opposed any of my requests for seizing new opportunities. After all, haven't I proven my good judgment as a first rate entrepreneur with nowhere to go but up to the board? Hmm? Isn't that what's been said repeatedly by the media and, dare I say it, the employee feedback survey?" Zinco replied hotly and deliberately. The man shrank in his seat, but only a little. Roderick was disappointed that he hadn't caused more fear in the man yet. He sighed and moved back to the head of the table, feigning a change in attitude. "But the board is, after all, here on behalf of the company's good. Gentlemen, I think that we should have a vote on the matter. All in favour say 'aye' and raise your hand."

A few of the board members shifted uncomfortably and muttered to one another. Zinco snarled and glared at each in turn. He might have been able to play a crowd from time to time, but being denied what he wanted caused him to lose the usual charm he needed to accomplish the feat. He slammed one fist into the table. The other board members grew silent at this and sat perfectly still. Anyone in the room could have sworn that the only being daring to breathe at the moment was Roderick himself and he was shaking with rage on every exhale. He looked up and glared at each member once more, carefully doing his utmost to stamp fear into each man with merely the image of his anger. The board-man that had spoken first cleared his throat and raised a hand out toward Zinco defensively.

"Sir, you look a little distressed," he offered. Zinco rose and stared harshly at the man with one fist clenched. "Maybe we should allow you some time to rest and regroup before we decide on anything."

"That is an excellent idea," a new man's voice announced from the doorway. No one had noticed as the robed old Russian had entered, steam still slightly emanating from the man's chest with an eerie green glow. His eyes were masked by tiny, thin-rimmed sunglasses. He smirked, a few of the members somewhat recognizing the face from days past. Some of them were sure that they had seen his image in history books. Rasputin strode slowly over to the man and placed a hand on his shoulder swiftly, yet tenderly. The man shuddered, not merely put off by being touched by a stranger, but also from the icy nature this man seemed to carry with him. The man opened his mouth to speak but found no words. Rasputin grinned and moved his hand to gently cup the man's neck. "Perhaps it would benefit everyone to relax and allow the powers that be to handle all the procedures requested." With the last few words, the sorcerer grasped the man's neck with inhuman strength. In one small flick of his wrist, the man's neck snapped and he fell lifeless to the floor. The other board members gasped and began to mutter more loudly at this. The sorcerer turned and looked at them, seeming to gaze deeply into each man's soul all at once. "Are there any other suggestions?"

The men hurried out of the office, terrified of anything that would follow. Zinco glared momentarily at his master and hastily caught one of the men by the shoulder. He pulled the trembling employee to face him and sneered. The man put up both hands defensively. "W-w-we'll wait for the results of your testing before any other decisions are made, sir," the man stammered. Zinco nodded once and then harshly tossed the man through the doorway. He looked past the man as he scrambled to stand up and caught the gaze of his now frightened receptionist, Abbey. He breathed deeply and straightened his tie as she carefully set down her telephone and stared back at him.

"No calls, please," he said firmly and kindly. She nodded as he slammed the door shut and smoothed back his hair. He turned and watched as Rasputin casually took the seat at the head of the table and calmly folded his hands. "That was not professional."

"Why? Did he have tenure?" the sorcerer asked with a grin. Zinco ignored the dark comment and walked forward until he stood at the edge of the table opposite his master. Rasputin grinned more brightly. "At any rate, it is rude for a slave to correct its master." Zinco frowned at these words, an icy stab alerting him for the first time to a situation where he was no longer the 'big man' and in complete control. He watched as Rasputin rose slowly, the leather coat around him squeaking in such a sinister manner that one might have thought the calves slaughtered to make it were crying out in pain as he moved. The sound and the concept of suffering itself seemed to please him as he neared his new servant and thought about victory yet again. "I have come to see if you have acquired the first part of the plan."

"It is only a matter of time. How do you expect me to know where the crown is? What about the stone that fell? What else do we need to uncover, my master?" he asked quickly.

Rasputin put aside any disappointment in the man and waved one hand dismissively, striding towards the window. He gazed out at the rain falling onto the land outside then back to the form of the fallen board member. He strode back towards him, kicking him once as he walked past. "You expect me to share anything further with you when you cannot complete what I have already asked. I still need your resources to locate the source, Mr. Zinco, that was part of the agreement," he said firmly. Zinco nodded, waiting patiently for the rest of the question to be answered. The sorcerer, sensing it, turned away and breathed deeply. He straightened himself once more and spoke clearly. "As for the rest, I believe the prince and princess will give me all I need to know of it."

(*)

The BPRD had been in ferment that night, but its chief agent and director was nowhere to be found. Manning had gone back to his apartment following the conversation with Coxswain. He had been so distressed at thinking that the very being he was allowing into the life of his family was betraying them simultaneously, not to mention how aggravating it was to have both Coxswain breathing down his neck and Meyers nosing around in the ranks again. He had followed the advice of his doctor and avoided staying in the 'negative environment' any longer than necessary. He had turned off the pager and phone, not wanting to be interrupted. This meant he hadn't received news that the sorcerer had been at the bureau, he hadn't heard that Leopold had disappeared, and he hadn't been informed that Abe had followed Nuala furiously to find their child through a nearby portal.

Instead, Thomas Manning glared angrily at the television screen, settling down on the worn sofa in his living room. He had kept modest accommodations for himself and Titania during her visits, but had grown used to keeping the century-old couch in the den where he often sat scowling and ranting to no one in particular about the issues that played across the plasma screen. He watched as a late-night host joked about the usage of government funds to cover up and coordinate a 'freak show' which, as the host pointed out, should not have surprised people after the 'Tea Party' became the new majority in congress. Manning muttered angrily about how people once had the right to claim loyalty to a party without ridicule. While the aging Republican did not tie himself to the movement, he did understand the frustration that caused the people to act. After all, isn't that what moved the first patriots to rise against the British? It occurred to him without warning that his soon to be son-in-law was also a testimony to the idea of taking action against injustice. He growled and shook his head more firmly. No; Nuada was NOT going to be his son in law and he was certainly not justified!

"White-faced mealy-mouthed cradle-robber," he fumed. He fumbled with a can of ginger brew, hoping to assuage the fire in his chest and stomach after having reached more than daily capacity for both antacids and deep breaths. "If you hadn't have shown your ugly face at that auction none of this would have ever happened. I would be doing my job, Red would be doing what he was supposed to, Abe would still be a genius, and Titania . . ." here he trailed off thinking about how introverted and silent his daughter had been since before meeting the prince.

She had spent most of her time either in body or spirit in the forest and preferred to not keep human company. Ironic that the greatest force of disdain toward humankind had brought her out from that. He sighed heavily. "None of this would have happened." The television host further jabbed at the bureaucrat personally mentioning that Dr. Thomas Manning has been denying the existence of the BPRD for years which means one of two things; either he's been lying, or like the rest of the government he just signs the papers without reading, not that anyone from New Jersey can read which still makes him great material for the Senate. The host waited for laughter, Manning continued to scowl at the screen. "If you look at his dance moves, though, I think we could all agree that he'd make good reality television material," the host added. He slammed the can down on the table and stood, pointing angrily at the screen. "Blasphemy! I was two minutes away from winning that competition and my knee gave out! This is slander!"

"As slanderous as calling someone a cradle-robber?" Nuada announced from close behind the man. Manning jumped, clutching his chest as he turned and faced the elf that he wished for the moment was a stress-induced apparition. To his dismay, Nuada remained standing and his visage did not appear to be fabricated in the slightest. The bureaucrat frowned. "I apologize for the interruption."

"Just what do you think you're doing in here, huh? A-a-a-a-at this hour? I could've been sleeping," the man exclaimed. Nuada raised one, smooth brow reproachfully and continued staring firmly at him. Manning sighed and rubbed his head. "Look, you're here now so what is it? Did you do something that made Tania say she'll never speak to you o-o-o-o-or see you again? What is it?"

"My concern is not for Titania at the moment. She and I are on pleasant speaking terms," he remarked. He tried his best to hide a broad grin that wanted to form at remembering the kisses that they had shared in the hallway shortly before Nuala had appeared, distressed that Leopold had been taken. It was shortly after that when Balor had arrived bearing the child on his back. The sight of the great, white stag climbing up the steps of the throne room with Leopold clinging to him had caused Nuala to faint, giving Abraham and Leopold both some time to speak with the old king while Nuada went to speak with Manning. He shook himself back to the present. "My concern is for you."

"Me?" Manning scoffed. He sighed heavily and walked away from the sofa, stopping to stand beside one of the countertops as he pondered this. Nuada tried to think of how best to word this. The bureaucrat scratched his balding head anxiously. "Just what exactly are you concerned about that involves me directly?" he asked waving a hand for emphasis.

Nuada frowned. "There was an intrusion this evening," he said flatly.

"An intrusion? What kind of intrusion? Someone else came into the forest uninvited?" Manning asked. Nuada remained unmoving and unfazed. "Your palace?"

"Your stronghold," the prince replied. Manning froze and stared at him for a moment. After the moment was finished, he raced over to his phone and pager, noting that he had not missed a single call or message. He sighed and closed his eyes, thanking God that nothing had gone on to warrant Washington's involvement while he was on brief hiatus. Nuada moved behind him and looked more sternly at him. "I will ask you only once to accompany me."

Manning thought for a beat and then looked into the prince's eyes with sincere concern. "Is your sister alright?" he asked.

Nuada breathed deeply and held out one hand to the man. Manning knew that Nuala was not seriously harmed by judging the prince's lack of an outburst, but he also knew that something had come up involving her. He frowned. Whatever it had been, Abe had not been able to handle it according to the prince's standards. He sighed and nodded following Nuada until he felt darkness envelop them. The aging bureaucrat had never traveled with a portal or spell before and he was already hating it. Manning's shout was shrouded by the magic that engulfed them.


	17. 16 Where Magic Happens

Chapter 16: Where Magic Happens

Manning's shout manifested itself hoarsely as the two appeared in front of the thrones past the steps leading into the throne room. The world returned to its normal speed as the darkness faded away from both. The prince released his grip on the man's arm and stepped away, using all of his finely tuned senses to make sure that no other surprises were hiding in the palace itself. He breathed a sigh of relief at sensing nothing save for the entire royal family and those that served them. Manning stood shuddering and moaning as he leaned forward. Nuada noticed this in time to help him kneel on the floor, panting. This was what the magical beings used to travel? It was awful! He could not see how on earth Titania had acclimated to this so quickly.

"Next time warn me," he said in a quivering yet firm tone. The prince shook his head and began walking slowly toward the throne. Manning breathed deeply as he found the strength to center himself. He looked around at the finery of the throne room as he also slowly moved to the throne. He had only been here once before at the prince's coronation, but something about the palace seemed different. He couldn't quite place what it was, but it was definitely changed. "I still don't understand why _I_ need to be here."

"There was an intrusion, Dr. Manning," Nuada said calmly as he placed a hand on the throne's backing. He turned and looked at Manning with an expression that reminded the older man of the looks Professor Broom gave Hellboy. "You are not safe. I have decided that you and your associates would be best protected here until the situation with the sorcerer and Grindel are brought to fruition."

"Now wait just a minute, mister. You might be royalty here, but the United States government is not going to just hide out during a-a-a-a-a crisis," Manning said, raising both arms in protest. "I am the head of the bureau and I decide what's best for my team."

"I understand that, Dr. Manning, but you forget," the prince said slowly and deliberately. He moved forward quickly so that he and the man stood nearly nose to nose. "For the moment you are in Bethmoora and in this realm, my word is law. By accompanying me, you accepted my sovereignty and all that implies."

"Prince Nuada, I appreciate your concern, but this is a little bit over the edge, don't you think?" Manning continued, now trying to sound as casual as possible when feeling more like he had been captured than rescued as the prince seemed was convinced. "I mean come on, one intrusion. Pffff. Those things happen where we are. Heck, even you . . ."

Nuada turned and raised a brow at the man, waiting for the rest of the sentence. Manning tried to think of the best way to express what he wanted and assure the elf that he was more than capable of handling things on his turf. He found himself at a complete loss for words both in residual fear of the once self-proclaimed human slayer and in frustration over having his authority challenged, yet again, by someone else. The man sighed and let both arms drop, turning away from his 'rescuer' and muttering angrily. Nuada shook his head and turned to the entranceway behind the throne. In the doorway stood Balor, who was speaking to someone in a low tone. Nuada took a few steps toward the doorway, confused as to why he could not hear what his father was saying. This must have been deliberate. He froze as he watched the form of his father, the massive white stag, turn and begin sauntering into the throne room itself. He was followed closely by Abraham. The sight of his brother-in-law made the prince a little angered; what was his father saying to this acceptable interloper that he wanted hidden? Sensing his son and the emotion welling within him, Balor slowly approached and bowed his head respectfully. Nuada knelt, bowing lower, still determined to show love and loyalty to his father the king, even now as he himself acted the part. Balor grunted and pawed once, signaling his son to rise.

"The need to act is evident, my son. And I am sure that you will have a strategy formed in a matter of minutes if not already," Balor said in the same low tone. "Abraham tells me that you have seen the sign of the wyvern."

"Titania saw it, father, in the forest. The same day that Donovan joined the herd of Dagdha when he saved your life," Nuada explained. Balor frowned and looked to the side. The mention of anything attached to his twin had not been made in centuries and with good reason. It was more painful a subject for the past few millennia than even the disappointments Nuada had brought to him. The prince slowly stood more upright and gently placed a hand on his father's shoulder. "We did not know whether to prepare a venture into the otherworld or to confer with you about the issue, father. I know you do not wish to think about the past."

Balor sighed heavily and glanced at Abraham. Having had a chance to speak at length with his son in law, Balor had come to realize that the throne from Nuala's standpoint would at least be in competent hands. The amphibian's knowledge of the arcane and unusual was vast, something that had not been seen in scholars for some time now. It pleased him to think that his only daughter was the apple of a scholar's eye. "Whether I wish to consider the past is inconsequential for the time being, my son. If Beowulf is in my future, then I will face it boldly."

"Your majesty, I believe that it would be best for you to stay nearby. If Rasputin is after Nuada and Nuala, then you are also at risk," Abraham reasoned. Balor turned to him, waiting for further and better reasons to stay in Bethmoora proper. "After all, there is only so much that can be done to protect your daughter and grandchild at the bureau and she might be more inclined to stay where it is safe if her father is there."

"I can think of no other way to justify saying this, father, but Abraham is right," Nuada added. Balor glanced back up at his son. "Nuala has been loath to even visit the palace since after the coronation. Leopold does not even speak our tongue."

Balor grinned and glanced back and forth between his son and his son-in-law. "He does now," the old stag said proudly. The two looked shocked at these words. Balor began striding back toward the steps leading down and away from the throne room, chuckling to himself. "He learned very quickly and is in awe at seeing the forest. She won't be able to keep him from it any longer."

Nuada turned to Abraham in confusion. "Is this true?" he asked, a hint of excitement and relief all at once hiding behind his lowered tone. Abraham said nothing. The amphibian suddenly felt a strong and dear presence behind him moving toward him. He turned instantly and saw Nuala moving to join him. She looked a little less sallow and was still holding their son tightly. The short rest that unconsciousness had afforded her had done her well.

Leopold appeared to be completely in an element all his own. His wide, dark eyes were scanning every inch of the palace and the people present for any information he could glean silently from them. The moment that the she-elf rounded the corner and entered the throne room present, Leopold sensed his grandfather's presence and fought his way away from his mother's hold, darting toward the stag. Nuala let out a small shriek and tried to catch the boy in mid-leap. She was unsuccessful and clutched Abraham's arm tightly, asking him with their link to go and retrieve their child immediately. He returned the thought that he saw nothing wrong with the situation. Nuala looked up at him in shock and backed away a pace, lowering her head. Her husband had never refused one of her requests before, especially one involving their child. Nuada could tell that the whole incident was making his sister entirely uncomfortable in the worst possible way. She felt betrayed. Leopold and Balor met halfway toward one another with the boy wrapping his arms as best he could around the stag's thick neck and mane while the stag grunted happily and pressed the side of his head against the boy's shoulder.

"It is time we returned home," Nuala said softly but firmly nodding ever so slightly in Manning's direction. The bureaucrat looked over at the she-elf unhappily. Things had been different and, if he could define them more strictly, ordered among the paranormal agents since she had come to stay with them. Even despite the ordeals they had faced, Nuala had managed to command Abraham and he in turn had seemed more persuasive to Red and Liz both. Manning scratched his head for a moment, glancing back at the heavy expression on Balor's face. He sighed and turned to the small family.

"I think it's in the best interest of the . . ." he paused, trying to give a believable and rational response, " . . . United States government and homeland security that you remain on, uh, on . . . familiar grounds. It reduces threats to national safety if you um, stay in the country of your own . . . national . . . uh, origin." Everyone looked at Manning in surprise. He breathed deeply and wiped his brow before straightening himself and clearing his throat. "That-that's final. It's just more prudent for the royal family to maintain unity in their own nation until such time as the United States can render more efficient . . . uh, protection."

"We are more than sufficient to protect one another. None of us have been attacked to date in the building itself since relocating," Nuala protested.

"You were a target during infiltration and therefore a-a-a-a liability. That's it, a liability," he said trying to sound more formal and firm all at once.

"A liability?" she exclaimed unhappily. The princess narrowed her eyes at him, but saw that he was thinking more as a father right now and would not be swayed from this decision by a daughter figure. She turned to her husband. He looked back in stunned silence. "Abraham, do reason with him. We can't stay here. What will you do when you need water?"

"There is a whole ocean surrounding Erinland," Nuada interjected firmly. The two turned to face him. The prince smirked. "And I am sure if Abraham applies himself he might finally learn to swim in it."

"Now just a moment, that is entirely uncalled for," Abraham replied indignantly. Nuala let out a sigh of relief at her husband finally standing against the nonsense. "It just so happens that I have been immersed in three, three oceans in the past decade, thank you." Nuala turned and glared at him slightly. Abraham sighed and looked down at his beloved. "Nuala, it really would be safer to be where magic can protect you. I have limited resources and the bureau can only do so much.

Nuala continued to glare at him as she reached down and caught Leopold firmly in her arms. The boy said nothing, sensing his mother's anger and frustration. She took a few moments more to glare harshly at her brother, husband, and Dr. Manning. Nuada was the only one who did not slightly avert his gaze away from the fire behind the princess. She finally turned to her father and stared angrily at him for a moment. Balor could think of nothing to say and simply grunted, the breath from his nostrils forming a pale steam in the cold air. A large tear formed in the princess's eye and streamed down her cheek as she turned and hurried out of the throne room. The others sighed and watched silently. It was going to be more uncomfortable than originally anticipated to straighten this out of Nuala was going to be out of sorts.

"What about Liz, the twins, brother Red? Shouldn't they come and remain with us?" Abraham asked anxiously. He had been too wounded to attend the funeral of Professor Broom and hadn't even been granted the opportunity to say goodbye. The thought of the beloved man's murderer being back and active was almost too much for the amphibian to bear, especially in considering that his wife and son had already been accosted by him and that he had been powerless to do anything to stop it or confront Rasputin himself. He groaned inwardly and watched Manning stand perfectly still, contemplating the thought of telling Agent Hellboy that he needed to stay in Bethmoora for safety. He could see Liz staying put, somewhat, but definitely not the demon. This was getting more and more complicated by the minute. Abe sensed his supervisor's anxiety and questions even from a distance. He thought quickly about how to remedy the situation and a solution came almost immediately to him. "Ah! I have an excellent thought."

"That's new," the prince said quietly.

Abe ignored this and continued to speak directly to Dr. Manning and Balor at the same time. "It will be quite difficult to get Red to abandon his position over the Troll Market and the Americas, but it would also make that area vulnerable to have him absent as well. I believe we should indeed utilize the safety and secrecy of Bethmoora for those that truly need protecting. I propose that Nuala and Liz remain here with their children and that Red and I go back with you to assist in any way we can until this is resolved," he offered. Manning winced at being reminded that he could not stay at the palace and enjoy the comfort of invisibility it offered from the public eye and possibly the enemy. He sighed and rubbed his shiny head pensively, weighing the possible benefits of keeping the demon in New Jersey without the three things anchoring him to sanity. "I am convinced that Prince Nuada would offer any assistance as well if we called on him."

Nuada unfolded his arms and looked harshly at his brother in law. "And what_** convinced**_ you of that? I have never offered to assist that nonsense you call a government in any of their ridiculous bouts with others of my kind evil or otherwise," the prince replied hotly. Abe looked at the elf pleadingly, silently telling him that it was for the best that he remain available at least in theory. Nuada sighed and closed his eyes, turning away in frustration. "This is not my battle; I have other matters to attend to. Whatever the sorcerer wants with your bureau it is not at all related to any harm coming to my people and that should be my concern."

"Do you really think that there is singularity in his desires for the one or the other?" Balor interjected. All three turned and watched him carefully as he moved to descend the stairs. His glowing white mane shifted ever so slightly behind him as he reached the edge of the platform serving as the throne room. He turned back and looked at the trio gravely. "You have separate tasks, perhaps, in this matter. But do not think that our worlds have been divided by intentions in the mind of Rasputin. He seeks to destroy; magic, mortal, they are all the same to him."

With that, the stag climbed proudly and solemnly down the stairs and out into the rest of Bethmoora proper. Nuada and Abraham sighed simultaneously inwardly while Manning did so outwardly. He hadn't at all anticipated something this big in taking the reins of the bureau. This was nothing short of a worldwide crisis if it continued on this path.

(*)

From another corner of the throne room, a troll spy waited anxiously. The orb that floated a few paces away from the group, well hidden, was revealing all that he needed to know and all that Grindel needed to know as well. The misshapen teeth that lined the troll's fetid smile became visible as the stag descended the stairs. The troll watched as the agreement was made between the three men remaining and they left to go in their respective directions. Abraham and Dr. Manning were instructed on how to use the nearest portal to return to Trenton while Nuada went to look after his sister. The prince had stressed before leaving the two that Manning would do well to instruct Titania to come and stay in the palace as well; nothing was too great a measure of caution at the moment. The troll glanced around as he reached into the air and summoned the orb to instantly appear in his palm. Trolls had begun to learn the ways of sorcery centuries ago when Prince Nuada had come to them with Wink. The elf and troll were equal friends and comrades, an idea never before explored in the magical realms. The trolls, who wanted to accept this equality, began learning magic from the prince; all that he would teach them. In the end and like humans, most of the trolls discarded the use of magic while a few treasured it. Half of that few kept it sacred and pure while the other half served Grindel as wicked spies and alchemists.

The troll snatched the orb as it appeared in front of him and slipped it into his cloak. A shiver ran through him as the sound of hooves drew near and Balor, the old king, passed by. The troll watched and licked his foul lips, thinking about how delicious venison would be after having been marinated as an elf for millennia. He hurried toward the lesser known portal leading back to the Black Forest and readied to report to Grindel. As Balor left the palace itself and stepped back out onto the cool grass, a breeze whisked past him carrying an odd sound. He lifted both ears, but frowned at realizing that he could not make it out at all. He grunted and shook his head, turning back to his duties in the forest. Odd sounds and odd sights were likely to increase over the next few days and he would soon be overwhelmed by them. For now, the peace that an anxious wait afforded the woods away from what was surely nothing less than sheer disappointment in Nuala, was more than enough for the stag to bear.


	18. 17 Dreams that Change the World

Chapter 17: Dreams That Change The World

The ordeal it took to settle the new visitors into Bethmoora and sending the rest back to New Jersey was more laborious than tracking the last piece of the crown had been for the prince. Even Puck found himself aggravated at the complaints being made by Nuala and Liz about being abandoned by their husbands and how neither of them appreciated the presence of Wink. As soon as the evening meal had ended, the pwca immediately demanded that everyone retire to their respective rooms and bounded down the hallway toward his own chamber, shouting a goodnight to all. Wink grunted and looked at his master in confusion. Nuada shook his head and stood slowly, gesturing toward his sister and guest. Liz continued to glare at him and rose quickly, gathering the twins in her arms and hurrying out of the room as a servant showed her the way. Nuala watched, Leopold clinging to her skirts as she sighed and turned to face her brother.

"How long is this nonsense going to continue? Neither of you are prisoners and you both know good and well that your husbands can handle themselves in any confrontation with either enemy," Nuada demanded. Nuala frowned and reached down for Leopold's hand. The sight made Nuada's heart ache a little at the remembrance of taking his own mother's hand. The sight was not dissimilar and even Nuala felt the loss of her mother yet again for a moment. She raised her eyes and forced a smile and a nod toward him.

"Thank you for your generosity, brother. I am sure this will be over soon," Nuala said slowly and deliberately. Leopold looked up at his mother, still a little confused at what was transpiring. She sighed and reached down, taking Leopold in her arms fully. Part of the she-elf wanted to keep her son an infant forever and be able to protect him and comfort herself with his presence. The thought of this innocent child one day standing before her as accomplished as her brother made her shudder. Even the thought of him living the life Abraham had done so far made her uneasy. "Goodnight, brother."

"Goodnight, sister," Nuada said. He watched as she turned slowly and began to walk down the hallway. Leopold looked over him mother's shoulder. The prince grinned. "Goodnight, nephew."

"Goodnight," Leopold called back.

The clear sound of the boy's voice using words that the elf could understand were more than soothing. He breathed deeply and folded his hands behind him as he turned back to Wink. "You should retire as well, Mr. Wink. We must all be at our peak for the next few days," he said firmly.

Wink grunted, but nodded to his master. The troll had felt guilty for the attack leaving the scar on the prince's hand which had since made the warrior not only vigilant, but also practically emotionless. Nuada pointed to the hallway leading to the barracks and watched his friend saunter away heavily. The elf sighed and continued to think to himself about this arrangement. The dangers facing Anung Un Rama and those connected to him as well as all connected to the royal family were growing rapidly. Titania was connected to both and nothing had been done to properly protect her, nothing that fit Nuada's standards, anyway. Even as the exhaustion of the day overtook him, thoughts about her filled his mind and began to form a fevered anxiousness. One moment he was filled with the thoughts of her dark tresses, pale skin, crisp emerald eyes, and full lips and the next moment he felt himself filled with the memories of her screams.

The prince had been present when Titania had faced the most awful of ordeals a human could face and the fears that had followed. The sounds of her screams, the sight of her widened quivering eyes, and the feel of her cold trembling skin haunted him now more than ever. What if Rasputin came for her while her mother was off on some other mission to flaunt her painted corpse? What if Grindel came in the night and took her for himself, hiding her magically within the mountains in a place that even Jareth would be unable to find? Being able to sense the elf's apprehensions and fears, Puck made his way into the prince's chamber and offered him a draught along with word from Titania herself that all was well. Unfortunately, the small note that Puck had procured in a very short visit also stated firmly that she would not, absolutely would not be relocated to Bethmoora and have to live underground at all. The forest was still her charge and she had no intention of abandoning it.

"She is headstrong," Nuada remarked as he put the rim of the goblet Puck had brought him to his lips. Puck nervously wrung his hands, watching the elf drink in the potion that would ensure the rest of the palace a peaceful night. Nuada handed the empty goblet back to the pwca and nodded to him. "I suppose that is a trait those in my family seek in a companion."

"Indeed," Puck sighed. He turned back and smiled at the prince. "It is the only trait that you can share with both disgust and utter enjoyment."

"Thank you for services, my friend. I do not believe I would ever live long enough to thank you for your role in all that has come to pass and all the good that will come to be," Nuada offered. Puck smiled and waved a paw dismissively as he hopped to the doorway, carrying the goblet. "Goodnight, Puck."

"Goodnight, your majesty," Puck replied, closing the door behind him.

The prince felt the effects of the draught moving through him as he disrobed and climbed slowly into his bed. He laid his head back against the pillows still unable to rid himself of the images , hopes, and memories of Titania. The fog that was beginning to cloud his vision and hearing was even unable to block all that she stirred in him. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply and trying to focus on nothing but the softness of the bed beneath him, the cool pillow beneath his head, the warmth of the covers surrounding him, and the supple shape of the body lying beside him. He bolted upright, suddenly noticing the form of Titania lying beside him beneath the covers. His heart raced and his mouth went dry as she sat up as well, though more slowly. The prince had been careful since an incident in the forest to preserve Titania's virtue even in dreams, but it was made difficult at the moment as she lay beside him in nothing but undergarments. She grinned and scooted closer to him.

"Titania," he whispered as she reached out and gently placed a hand on his arm. "What are you doing here?"

"The same thing you are," she said coyly with a side glance. "I hope."

"Titania, it is late and I am sure that your mother and Misses Badcrumble will be terribly worried about . . ." he began. Titania filled his mouth in a flash with her own. Fire filled his veins at this sudden display. Her lips were perfect; soft and warm about his own and the taste of her was as pleasant as any wine. He groaned a little and contemplated pushing her away and demanding that she dress herself. The draught compelled him to lie back and go to sleep leaving the girl to whatever scheme she had devised before disrobing and sneaking into his bed. Titania placed her palms against either pectoral and forced him to lie backward, continuing to fill his mouth with a sultry kiss and gently caressing him with her warm hands. He tried to find other words, to form some sort of protest that would protect the girl. Surely she would regret giving into any temptation if he allowed it now. _Sod it_, his inner selfishness shouted silently. _Let her have her way, humans have died being denied such things and so have elves_.

She pulled her face away long enough to look deeply into his eyes and smile suggestively. "Oh, Prince Nuada, my only, my darling," she said softly. He lay silently, answers to each forming in his mind but finding themselves stuck in the silly grin that had formed over his lips. She leaned forward and gently, sweetly kissed his neck. He breathed unsteadily, realizing that she was not only more active than ever before, she was certainly more clear and amorous. He found himself placing both hands behind her, cradling the small of her back and only slightly pulling her toward him as she sat atop his midsection; straddled as if he were some magnificent white stallion. She pulled back once more, this time tracing the fingers on both hands backwards from his shoulders down over his chest and letting them rest on his abdomen as she gazed down into his spinning, golden eyes.

Elves' eyes became glistening gold when physically aroused and at the moment one could have sworn that the prince was a well decorated statue and not a living being at all. Titania smiled more brightly and, to his chagrin, dismounted him and stood. The prince sat upright, ready to ask her what all this meant and what she thought she was doing. His mind began to fill with curiosity as he realized that, while he was still covered with the blanket and both of them were still practically unclad, they were no longer lying in his bed. As he glanced around, he noticed that somehow they had made their way into the throne room and had been lying in the very center of the platform, the platform leading down to the army. He sat more upright as Titania began to walk backwards, still gazing longingly into his eyes as she moved to the edge of the platform. Nuada, still very confused, groaned and stood, taking a deep breath and wiping a sheen of sweat away from his brow and shoulders.

A noise caught his attention. At first it was a small creaking and then a booming, rattling, groan of metal against metal. His ears began to burn with recognition as the platform started to tremble, an all too familiar trembling. He turned, glancing around the rest of the platform and down into the chamber beneath it as one by one the golden soldiers awakened. They slowly unhinged from their resting pose back into full battle stance, turning and beginning to ascend the platform. He frowned and took a step back in surprise as the soldiers drew closer.

"Oh, Prince Nuada, my only, my darling," she said softly once more, this time reaching a hand out toward him. His eyes grew wider as he noticed the form of one of the soldiers moving swiftly toward her. She didn't seem to notice at all. The prince raced forward, demanding that the forces stop.

"Halt!" he shouted. The soldiers still came forward, moving ever closer to the pale maiden. Panic filled him as Titania still stepped away from him, smiling, and the soldiers moved closer. One finally made its way to stand less than a pace behind her. She smiled at him one last time as the soldier raised its hideous, golden blade. "No! Stop!"

With a loud crash and a terrifying scream, Nuada saw Titania's form become a spray of brilliant red. He screamed and raced forward, instinctively reaching for his lance. An even greater surprise filled him at realizing that not only had he taken hold of his favored blade, but he was now dressed in full battle gear. He leapt high into the air, bringing the edge of the blade down into the cogs that made the neck of the soldier and screaming as loudly as he could. The soldier slowed a beat and knelt forward, allowing Nuada to topple off and glare at the defiant warrior. The golden creature reached up, clicking a few things into place to fix the minor damage done by the prince. Nuada's eyes practically exploded as the soldiers began marching past him. He reached up, another instinct telling him that if the army was awakened and on the move, why were they not obeying the obvious bearer of the crown . . . him?

He turned and caught sight of someone else seated on the throne. He gasped at seeing Rasputin, clad in Balor's ancient garb and wearing the golden crown proudly. Nuada shouted and stood, ready to race forward and kill the usurper. A sharp pain suddenly radiated immensely throughout his chest. He looked down, noting the golden tip of a soldier's short sword protruding from him. Rasputin stood, laughing, as the prince's vision grew dark. Nuada fought the nightmare, struggling within his mind and body to be free of these images and feelings. In fact, he was sure that he could feel his limbs flailing as he struggled. When he finally awoke, he leapt from the bed, not stopping a moment to catch his breath. He pulled on only necessary clothing and raced from his bedchamber to the nearest portal. Puck, who had heard strange noises from the prince's chamber, watched his sovereign and frowned.

"Your majesty?" he asked.

Nuada ignored him and leapt through the portal, willing it to a location that he had never visited directly before. The portal surged, reality and colour phasing about him. The trip was almost nauseating after the nightmare, but his focus kept him from becoming as ill as his body desired. The room around him began to settle and clear back to stability. It was large, darkened by thick curtains, and decorated in lovely purples. The faint scent of jasmine and rosehips met him which offered some comfort. Nuada raced forward, blindly, feeling his way for the edge of the bed. Without warning, he reached down, grasping the figure sleeping on the bed and clutching them tightly to his chest. Titania awakened, shocked to find that prince was embracing her so tightly in her own room. She slowly placed her arms around him, allowing a few moments of silence and confusion to pass between them as his breathing became more controlled. She furrowed her brow in concern as she heard him begin to sob ever so slightly. He pulled away, still clutching her shoulders in his hands and trembling as he spoke. Titania looked deeply into his eyes, asking him to explain himself silently. The gaze comforted the prince as he reassured himself that this, this very moment was real and the other was gone. Titania reached up after a beat and smoothed away a rogue lock of his golden hair. He closed his eyes, reaching up and grasping her hand against his cheek tightly as a tear fell. She finally broke the silence.

"What's wrong? What's happened?" she asked quietly.

"Titania," he said, relief clearly in his voice at being able to say it in her presence. He drew in a choppy breath and pulled her even closer. "You cannot stay here."

"Nuada, Bethmoora isn't an option I'm willing to . . ."

"No," he said firmly. His sudden firmness and opposition to his home shocked her. He sighed and a somber look filled his features. "You cannot stay in this realm."


	19. 18 A House Divided

Chapter 18: A House Divided

Abraham tried to focus on the Piano Sonata #14 of Ludwig Van Beethoven as he sat waiting in the tank that had offered him solace for so many years. Every few minutes the remembrance that Ludwig was Leopold's fifth of seven given names moved through his mind as would the fact that Nuala and his child were miles away and had been for more than a few hours. Of the group left at the bureau's compound, he seemed to be taking the absence of the female presence the best out of the group. The moment it reached an impatient and aggravated Hellboy that Liz and the twins were to travel to Bethmoora Palace and that they were to stay there until the all-clear was sounded, he had started on the warpath. After the demon had thrown a set of office drawers across the room in Manning's Office, the amphibian had slipped back into the library silently and begun to immerse himself in both the water and the music. While the feeling of the cool water surrounding him was soothing and natural, the absence of Nuala was nagging at him through the Adagio Sostenuto and he was sure he had shed a few tears during the repeating chords. As the Allegretto began, he still found himself far too distracted to swim peacefully. In an attempt to make himself at peace once more, he began trying to recite a mantra.

A muffled tapping to the far side of his tank caused him to stir, but seeing that it was Red, he tried to ignore it for the time being. He had never ignored a friend in need, but Abe was sure that if he did not find some sort of center in the next few moments, then he would resort to shouting . . . something he loathed. Still, the demon persisted. "Abe, get out here and tell Manning he is the only thing at this facility that actually belongs in that garbage truck!" the demon shouted through the glass. It was mercifully stifled, but present nevertheless and Abraham winced at it. Not far from the demon stood Dr. Manning, practically as red in the face and trying to be as loud.

"_Om asatoma sadgamaya_," Abe said aloud, unheard by those outside. The arguing continued until the stifled voices were almost as clear as the music playing through the headphones and the amphibian's voice itself. He growled a little and repeated the most important words as loudly to himself as he could. "_Shanti, shanti, shanti_."

"Fish-stick, I am not going to spend another minute arguing about this! He is out of control and one of you needs to fix this!" Manning shouted. Abraham hadn't been able to hear the voice of Dr. Krauss who had deliberately stood several feet away from the tank, not wanting to disturb his friend. Krauss was arguing loudly as well, in broken English, that the two men were arguing over 'nuh-ssing' and needed to be separated. Manning tapped once more on the tank, alerting Abe that he had no choice in the matter and that he would not be left alone. Abe groaned, still repeating the sutra over and over as best he could between thoughts about the third movement in this sonata and the arguing outside. He made his way out of the tank, through the locks, and approached the two. "I have had it to the limit, the limit mister, with your antics!"

Manning's words were, of course, directed at Red who immediately returned in like manner. "Oh yeah? Then why don't you go run back to the office and compute that? You can't tell me what to do, Manning, you are not my superior . . . period!"

Abe breathed deeply, still trying to be calm and think of something neutral to say to soothe the situation. _Shanti, shanti, shanti_, he repeated to himself as he thought. In a flash, all of the realizations of his family being separated from him, the impending danger, his lack of proper sleep, a disturbing and revealing conversation with his father-in-law, and the years of irritation from both the bureaucrat and the demon forced their way past any inner peace. _Shanti, shanti_, s_hanti_ suddenly blurted out as "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" The two, accompanied by Krauss, turned and looked at the blue man in astonishment. He rarely raised his voice and certainly never like this. "Just shut up both of you! You are both in the wrong and quite possibly in criminal sense! Can you not manage five minutes without fighting?" The two stood speechless for a moment, an Olympic feat on Abe's part that would likely have even impressed Nuada. "Our families lie across the sea in danger of being killed or worse and all you can do, all you've done for the past twenty years is bicker!"

The stunned trio stayed completely still for a few moments as Abraham gathered himself. To his surprise, he wasn't in the least bit unsettled or sorry that he had spoken so. In fact, a part of him felt quite relieved and most relieved that Nuala hadn't been nearby to hear him say such things. Krauss wanted inwardly to applaud, but felt conflicted that the silencing of the two had come at such a price. Before anyone could utter another sound, the doors to the library burst open. Meyers, looking out of breath and panicked, still clung to either handle as he entered and addressed the flustered Manning.

"Sir," he said between sharp breaths. "You need to see this, right now."

None of the four argued the matter and the group silently and swiftly followed the youth to one of the nearby employee lounges. Meyers reached down for the television remote and quickly increased the volume as far as it would go. There were a few operatives and agents in the room as well, all looking at the screen in horror. Manning's blood froze at the image flickering across the screen. Coxswain stood in the capital building addressing the most powerful body of men Manning had ever hoped to join . . . the senate.

"With your immediate approval for this impending threat to our national security, we will begin the detaining of all beings not labeled as human as under the definitions of the current Bureau of Paranormal Research and Defense. A branch of our government, a spending of our tax dollars, that is falling short in every regard to our defense against these threats," Coxswain announced proudly. Manning's face went pale and Abe drew near to him, ready to catch him in the case of another heart related 'episode'. "These reports don't lie, gentlemen. 84 individuals and five federal agents killed September 26th, 2008 by a criminal that the bureau refused to arrest; $4.2 million in damages to a Brooklyn neighborhood including the deaths of five brave police pilots caused by an entity that the bureau could not control; and recently 18 of our men in uniform belonging to the United States Marine Corps were killed by an individual that the bureau failed to deal properly with over a decade ago," the man continued. Murmuring and fear moved across the faces of every weathered and polished man and woman in their respective seats. Manning's heart began to race. If Coxswain could promote immediate action pursuant to whatever act protected his cause, then Thomas Manning's days at the BPRD were not only over, but his life would possibly end shortly after. "And now we have hard evidence that in lower Manhattan and Brooklyn the seat of many missing children's cases has been uncovered, by the bureau, and no one has taken steps to put an end to it. I hold in my hand a document also stating the intentions of one of the escaped criminals from the bureau to take action against this country, against the human race, to make war."

Abe put a hand to his mouth in shock as the word 'war' caused a great stir in the crowd of social servants. Manning hung his head and began to pant loudly. Meyers turned and looked at his supervisor in concern. Red stared at the screen in hatred. After everything the bureau had done for the betterment of the people of this country, of the world. He narrowed his red eyes at the screen and clenched his stone fist as the man called for a 24-hour consideration on the issue. Meyers, sensing the anxiety that had overwhelmed Manning, grabbed the remote just as the screen switched back to the anchor that had introduced the story.

"So there you have it. In a bizarre turn of events, it appears that the Bureau of Paranormal Research and Defense may soon be facing more than just a Congressional Hearing. As you just saw, Agent Coxswain has called for the immediate removal of certain paranormal beings, as he put it, to be removed from the New York area. Experts are already . . ." the anchor said emotionlessly. The younger agent turned off the set and turned back to the others slowly. He was able to breathe more calmly now that he had been standing for a few moments. Manning, on the other hand, was finding it more and more difficult to draw breath.

"This is unbelievable; do you guys know what this means?" Meyers said.

The group remained silent a beat as Abe, Krauss, and Manning all silently appraised varying angles of what a 'hostile take-over' in a federally funded society meant. Manning grabbed his forehead, feeling a stab of pain as Red growled softly.

"Yeah, it means we still have to kick an elf's ass," he muttered and turned to leave the room. "And he's had it coming for a while now."

"Wait, what?" Meyers exclaimed, following after the demon. "You, you're blaming this on them? On the _prince_?"

"Yeah, I'm blaming this on the prince, if hadn't been for his stunt three years ago we never would have come under this kind of fire. You haven't seen him at his nastiest, yet, either," Red replied angrily. Meyers frowned at him. Red shook his head and pointed back at the lounge. "And that document, that little scheister is holding with proof of impending war isn't a lie. He's still angry, he's still making threats, and now we're going to get flushed for it unless he makes a public statement about converting back from the dark side. Then we can get back to getting rid of the real enemy."

"You really think a public statement from him would change their minds?" Meyers asked. Red cocked one brow, answering the youth silently. Meyers frowned. "He hasn't changed his mind entirely and this, this is why, Agent Hellboy. They're not thinking about what's best for anyone right now, they're just scared. And whoever can scare them the most wins."

"Exactly, let him up there, scare 'em, and then let them vote or whatever it is they're supposed to be doing," Red retorted.

"It is not that simple, Agent Hellboy," Krauss added as he joined them. Red felt another twinge of anger. He had disliked the entity's appearance, but had learned to tolerate him during down time. Now was not anything close to down-time. "The prince has openly declared war and is honor-bound to say so. Lying is unheard of in the fairy realm," Krauss stated firmly. Abe began to protest, reminding the entity that factually Nuada had lied in the past. Krauss cut him off. "And what we perceive as intention has no bearing on a situation. The prince would say that he has declared war with humanity and he would also try and describe the greater evil we are fighting. That would only prompt them to do exactly as Coxswain has said no matter who speaks next."

"Then what do we do, just let them have a little discussion and decide what happens to all of us?" Red exclaimed. Krauss shook his head as Manning moved out into the hallway with Abraham holding him upright. "Huh? We're just going to sit here and take it?"

"No," Manning said softly. The group turned their eyes to the man as he raised a stern gaze to the demon. He cleared his throat. "You have a duty to the Troll Market and the magical beings in the Americas, don't you?" Red nodded, a little confused as to what Manning was implying. The bureaucrat nodded and rubbed his forehead. "I hate to say this, but you're going to have to be the one to say something to them."

"Wait, you want me to speak . . . in public?" Red said with almost laughter.

Before Manning could reply another operative raced over to him. "Sir, your ex-wife is on the phone, it's an emergency," the man said. Manning looked at the agent in further shock. The operative frowned. "It's about your daughter."

(*)

Nadia stepped happily down the hallway, clad in flowing house robes made from only the finest materials in the south of France. She felt particularly happy with herself about the news she had for Titania. There was an exchange program to study art and literature in five regions of Ireland and Nadia had remembered hearing that the elf prince had been from Ireland. Surely if she presented the girl with an opportunity for an education in her boyfriend's homeland then the girl would have no objections whatsoever. A tiny part of the woman felt that should Titania choose one of her options, then there would be a small victory over Thomas and his notions of academia being more important than expression. Nadia knocked on the girl's door primly and called her name. Education was about new experiences and expressing one's self. She knocked and called once more after a few moments. Liberation and total freedom, that was what Nadia saw as the best course of action for any young adult. There could be no substitute for good, old fashioned immersion into a swirling pool of unexplored theories, undecided exploration, and unrestrained desires. As Nadia knocked and called for Titania the third time, she recalled her schooling and liberal existence in Greenwich for a few years before meeting Thomas and then living pleasantly with him for a few months before their marriage. Thomas had sworn to never tell Titania of this and Nadia had obliged him, but the principle of freedom needed to be maintained.

From within the room, Nuada stirred. He laid beside Titania, raising his head slightly and opening both eyes as wide as the early morning would allow him after a night of poor sleep, but warm comfort. His arm was cupped around Titania on one side about her shoulders and around the other side underneath her at the waist. Her head lay just below his neck on his chest, soothed by the sound of breath becoming pulse some time during the night. The rest of her draped across his torso and back out onto the bed. The position was not uncomfortable for either, at least emotionally. Nuada felt a little awkward at the girl's weight shifted so unevenly over him, but after the nightmare any presence of the girl was welcome and comfortable. There were several knocks at the door and he could hear the girl's mother calling her name. His heart began to pick up its pace and he contemplated waking the girl so that she could address her mother. Still, the feeling of it was too good to interrupt. He sighed even after the third knock and lay still as Titania sighed and pressed her head against his chest more firmly.

Aggravated at being ignored, but sure that this was not deliberate, Nadia opened the door. At the sight of the prince disrobed (at least from what she could see) and in bed with her daughter, Nadia shrieked. This time Titania groaned and opened her eyes, sitting upright and stretching a little. Nuada froze and sat upright, staring at the woman in equal shock. Nadia stood breathless and speechless for a moment as Magnus came to the doorway to see what had caused the sudden scream. Magnus also felt horrified at the sight of the two in bed, but instead gave simply a disapproving sneer at the elf and turned to Nadia, asking her if she wanted him to phone the authorities.

"Get Thomas Manning on the phone, right now," Nadia commanded firmly.

Titania groaned and rolled her eyes. "Mom, nothing happened," Titania protested with irritation. Couldn't her mother see that she was still in her nightclothes and that neither of them were undressed completely? Nadia remained silent, staring at the both of them. "He had a bad dream."

Nuada sighed, closing his eyes and shaking his head. Even he didn't buy that and he knew it to be the truth. Nadia frowned with disapproval and folded her arms. She drew in a deep breath. "Titania, your self-exploration is your business and I'm not going to stifle your . . . adult needs," Nadia said carefully. Nuada raised one brow, amused at the woman's hypocrisy and aversion to addressing the situation outright. "I just want to know if you used protection."

Nuada couldn't resist an opportunity to mock the woman at least once and stir as much anger as he could. He knew that the woman wouldn't lash out at him and that nothing would tear Titania away from him now that he had won back her heart. He grinned. "Of course not," he replied flatly. Nadia's mouth dropped open in horror. Titania turned to him angrily. He grinned more brightly and seemed to move his form a little closer to the girl's mother. "I came too quickly."

"_**Nuada**_!" Titania shouted angrily as Nadia let out another horrified shriek. She smacked her beloved harshly on the arm. Magnus informed Nadia from the doorway that he had dialed the number and that the woman needed to explain things to her ex-husband before anything went further. As Nadia stormed out of the room to take the phone, Nuada congratulated himself on the little quip. Titania growled softly and hurried out of the bed. She dashed into the walk-in closet, changing into something quick and brushing out her dark locks hurriedly. The prince smiled, slipping out of the bed and unable to add anything to his already limited wardrobe. "Great, now mom's never going to let me close my door again and she's probably going to keep cameras in my room, too. All you had to do was stay quiet." The prince kept grinning, pleased with how well the morning had transpired. Not only had he thoroughly horrified that awful Nadia and now Titania had passion welling within her. She might be angered by something like this, but the trifles that upset Titania usually led to an equal intensity in pleasant company later on the day. She turned to him, glaring at him. "You could've at least made better use of sarcasm. Why didn't you say something more clever and less suggestive like of course you used protection you never leave home without a sword?"

"But I did leave without a sword," Nuada argued. Titania groaned more loudly and slammed down the brush she had been holding. He moved to stand behind her. "I won't lie to your mother."

"No, you'll just imply something that would give her a full year's ranting and give my father a heart attack," Titania replied. As Nuada began another clever dialogue Titania stared blankly into her mirror. Her eyes began to glow a faint violet. The prince noted the change and watched as she placed her left hand gently on the mirror. Visions began to play in front of her in the glass as if it had somehow become a strange window. The glints of minimal light and her own reflection suddenly went black and then images began to play before her of the bureau. Federal agents, not those of the bureau itself, were swarming the facility. Her eyes widened as she saw them surrounding and escorting Abraham and Red toward the doors. Red was putting up a fight and being subdued, violently, by these other agents. Just as the agents began placing handcuffs on the two loyal servants of the nation, she saw her father suddenly in the same position as the paranormal agents. She gasped and pressed her hand more firmly against the glass as if her palm could somehow draw her friends and father away from that awfulness. "That's wrong; what's happening? Leave them alone, they're not criminals!"

As Nuada was about to ask the girl what she was seeing, he felt a sharp and widespread pain on the back of his head. He snarled and turned, met by the sight of Misses Badcrumble with a large pan that had been her weapon. He snarled at her and she hissed back."You wicked, wicked cad!" the old troll rasped. As she raised the pan again, Nuada caught her by the arm and wrenched the pan from her. Before the troll could protest, he gestured firmly toward Titania, her eyes now glowing a bright violet. Misses Badcrumble frowned and watched anxiously. She glanced at the prince anxiously. "That's not a good sign."

Nuada was again tempted to make a snide remark to the woman, but the situation was far too serious. Instead, he simply placed a hand softly on the girl's shoulder. Without removing her hand and with her eyes still glowing, the girl turned to him. She seemed to be shuddering, but she wasn't trembling outwardly at all. He leaned more closely to her.

"Something bad has happened," she said softly, but firmly. "The bureau is in trouble."


	20. 19 The Promise Unsoiled

Chapter 19: The Promise Unsoiled

As Lummeweiss and Rhonzo looked into the flat crystal set between them and Vashti, the she-elf's eyes began to burn with anger. Both the well-aged Choovihni and the still aging goblin watched as she began to tremble, her breath becoming erratic. She looked up slowly at Rhonzo. Vashti frowned and shook her head, waving her hand over the crystal so that the images of Prince Nuada and Titania disappeared from view.

"You_ promised _me," Lummeweiss said angrily to the aged goblin. Rhonzo scratched his head, trying to think of some way to reply. "You promised me that _**I**_ would have him . . ."

"The future is uncertain," Rhonzo reasoned aloud. Lummeweiss stood and slammed one fist into the crystal, causing a small crack to form in its center. Vashti frowned all the more.

"You promised me that _**I would have him**_, he is supposed to be _**my prince, MINE**_!" Lummeweiss shouted furiously. Vashti was too overcome to stop what had briefly passed through her mind seconds before concerning what was about to transpire. Lummeweiss slammed her fist into the crystal again, this time breaking the centre and making even shards of the gypsy's tool. Vashti knew better than to be angry and slipped into the back of her own wagon, behind the dividing curtain, as Rhonzo moved toward the sobbing she-elf. Her hand was beginning to bleed terribly as he reached into his pocket and withdrew a clean handkerchief to wrap her wound as he healed it. She sunk to the floor with Rhonzo following her movements, sobbing harder. "How can he be my prince, my husband, if he follows her? You promised me . . . the court, the kingdom; I would finally have my prince and my title!"

"This is a distraction, nothing more," Rhonzo said, hiding his own uncertainty. He had, indeed, promised Lummeweiss and her parents that he would find the prince and betroth the two after he had assumed the throne (having seen through Vashti that he would assume the throne unwed). The she-elf that shared human blood had lived between worlds, neither truly elf nor human and barely welcomed by the familia that she traveled with. He breathed deeply. This would take more magic than he had initially anticipated. He had a relatively good idea about how to go about this, but it would be as difficult as locating him throughout exile had been. Still, it was worth it. Lummeweiss was a powerful visionary and held within her the bloodline of the oldest humans which gave her an edge to her own magic that offered Rhonzo something he could not access in any ancient corner of the globe.

"He doesn't even know who I am! We've spent years following this caravan about, this ridiculous excuse for a human sect, and I've never even met him! Wasn't that the reason I was to follow you? To meet my future husband!" she exclaimed. Rhonzo gently stroked her shoulder, squeezing his hand around her deep gash and willing it to heal. He noted that anger and sadness were fighting for top position in her mind and, if left unaddressed, anger would soon beat sadness to a pulp and fill her thoughts until forming hatred. It had happened to other elves, namely Nuada himself. "I've studied all the protocols, the titles, the history, and the magic. For what? To let some human child be taken to his side?"

"I assure you, I have it handled and she is just a distraction," Rhonzo repeated slowly and deliberately. Lummeweiss looked away, angered and hurt at the thought of complete dejection. Rhonzo's scheme had seemed perfect in her childhood, but in becoming an adult she was having repeated doubts that goblin ever intended to do anything with her but gain access to her powers. Rhonzo leaned forward, grasping the back of her head and pulling her into a fond embrace. She ceased sobbing a little. "I will not let a human take your place, my child," he soothed. She scoffed a little. Marriage was finite in the elf world; there was no divorce, no handfasting that allowed humans the seedy freedoms in their mingling. Rhonzo took Lumeweiss's chin firmly in one hand and looked sternly into her eyes. "I swear to you, you will be given the prince and the chance to wed him. Everything you desire will be presented to you."

The she-elf said nothing, sensing his sincerity and determination. She nodded, pulling away her now healed hand and looking at the crystal shards on the table. She stood slowly and gently placed both hands above the table on either side, hovering palms down as if waiting to catch some invisible creature about to dash across the surface. She drew in a deep breath, drawing in the magic around her as well, and allowed her eyes to glow the proper violet that magic brought to those it possessed. She slowly exhaled and drew her hands together, swiping them over the shards. As she did, the shards grew closer together, reforming the smooth tool that almost resembled a mirror. When the final crack had been removed she sighed and released the magic. Rhonzo placed a hand reassuringly on top of hers as she calmed herself and began to once again look forward to the prince's company.

(*)

Thomas Manning rubbed his head anxiously as he still tried to explain exactly what he wanted from his agents and keep his calm about the rest of the excitement facing their department. He sighed heavily.

"Alright, look, I'm not saying I want you to go in there like some kind of street minister," he said slowly. Red groaned and rolled his eyes. "All I'm saying is that the prince put you over all the magical creatures in this area and you need to get them to evacuate or something."

"I don't think this is the best idea," Dr. Krauss interjected. He too, had thought that Dr. Manning was going to ask that Agent Hellboy make a public statement, but that also seemed like a foolish idea. In fact, none of the agents really knew what the next move should have been given the current situation. The agent holding the phone continued to hold it, clearing his throat aggressively every few seconds. "Perhaps we should have the prince appear before the United Nations and make known the fact that his people have been threatened."

"How? They're not even recognized by the UN as a sovereign nation yet," Meyers added.

"With good reason. Those sparkling parasites are a bane to the civilized world and it's time they took their place where they belonged . . . government sanctioned preserves," Coxswain's voice announced as he approached with four other agents accompanying him. Manning looked up, glaring hatefully at the man along with all the other equally angry pairs of eyes from those around him. He snapped his fingers and held out his hand to one of his assistants who handed him a manila folder. Coxswain grinned brightly and handed it to Dr. Manning. "This is all the paperwork you need to keep your position over them. I do so admire your dedication to these 'special' creatures and I thought it only fair that you be relocated with them."

"I'm not going anywhere," Manning said in a firm, harsh whisper. He shoved the folder back against Coxswain's chest. "And neither are they."

"Oh, I'm afraid that's already been decided," Coxswain retorted with a sneer. He pushed the dossier so harshly back into Manning's grasp that it practically cut the bald, anxious man. Hellboy rose quickly, standing beside his supervisor and looming beside him, intimidatingly staring at the man with his yellow eyes glowing and tail curled angrily behind him. Manning opened the folder for a moment, glancing at the papers inside and felt his stomach quiver all the harder. The paperwork had already gained the seal and signature of the most powerful man in the nation, the president. Sweat began to pour from him as he noted the words 'improperly detained', 'unknown dangers', and 'immediate confinement'. "As you can see, the President seems to feel that it's in the best interest of homeland security that these paranormal freaks be rounded up as quickly as possible."

"Freaks?" Red snorted, taking a step closer and raising his stone hand with irritation. "You want to re-word that?"

"This one in particular poses a threat at a more intimate level for the government. God only knows what havoc he could wreak on security if he suddenly had a relapse into his instinctive nature," Coxswain spat back. Red growled and raised his fist. "In fact I think we could probably take all of the present agents who have had access to government weapons and information into immediate custody for debriefing before relocating them to the detainment area." At this, Abraham felt his heart begin to race and the thought of being imprisoned coupled with the memories of being subjected to inhuman experiments so many years ago flooded back to him. Coxswain moved a pace closer to Red, daring him to deal any damage with his 'right hand of doom'. "We don't want all Hell breaking loose, do we?"

"Cease any and all seizure of any living beings or personal belongings immediately. You are in violation of the rights of these persons as American citizens," a familiar voice announced loudly. The group turned. Abraham's heart slowed a little as did Manning's and Red's. The group breathed deeply as the dazzling sight of a tall, blonde, and brilliant-eyed congressional representative was walking down the hallway in a stunning formal sari. Jenna Finkelstein, the spokesperson for paranormal beings and woman who had saved Prince Nuada's life when he had been captured by Agent Welf, hurriedly yet gracefully took her place beside both Agent Hellboy and Manning. "Until I, as congressional representative for this particular bureau and their respective employees as well as all paranormal creatures defined by the congressional statutes of human rights section 212 code 18, have been provided with orders from the President then nothing further happens."

"You think you're going to stand in my way for long? Ha!" Coxswain laughed mockingly. "In 14 hours I'll have the orders in front of you in a nice Lisa Frank folder with bubble-gum scent just for you, sweetheart."

"Inappropriate age-related harassment violation and sexual harassment," Jenna countered. Coxswain sneered at her. she folded her hands in front of her. "Bring me the paperwork; my grievances will be filed and well underway by then."

"This isn't over; they're going away, all of them, far away," the angry young agent added as he snatched the folder from Manning and turned to storm away. "And you're going with them, too."

"We have to do something fast," Meyers added quickly, poking his head between the trio that had gathered to stand against Coxswain. "I think we need to at least let Prince Nuada know what's going on."

"Is the royal family unaware that there is this kind of legislation in process?" Jenna asked in confusion. Manning frowned and nodded. She drew in a deep breath and took hold of both Manning's hands, grasping them gently. "Alright then, you and I will go and speak to the royal family for a moment and alert them so that he can made an informed decision on what needs to come next."

"Sir, for the last time, your ex-wife is on the phone with a concern about your daughter and she is hysterical," the agent holding the phone stated as loudly as possible. Manning grumbled something angrily to himself and stormed over to the man, taking the phone harshly from him, but thanking him genuinely and nodding to him. The agent rolled his eyes and went on to take a well-deserved coffee break. Manning sighed heavily and whispered a prayer that Titania had upset his wife by doing something normal . . . yet.

"What is it, Nadia?" Manning asked. Nadia blurted out a series of hysterical complaints and shrieked accusations of inappropriate conduct, or at least that was what the bureaucrat could make of the woman's conversing. He held it away for a moment, growing even more angry. Finally, after hearing a reference to the prince, an idea popped into his head. He cleared his throat. "Nadia, put Prince Nuada on the phone and go to take an Ativan before you stroke out!" Manning shouted.

Shocked and appalled, Nadia stammered for a moment. Nuada had been able to get Titania to allow her to put his arms around her whatsoever as she tried to process the vision and still held tightly to the anger of being found in bed with him while trying to groom herself for the day. At hearing his name, the tips of his ears tingled ever so slightly and he hurried into the hallway. He noted Nadia still holding the phone and could clearly hear Manning still demanding that she give the phone to that elf before 'he hung up and got back to his work, his work which would always be more demanding than any asinine photo shoot'. Nuada grinned and stepped forward, seizing the phone from the woman and holding it slightly in front of him.

"Dr. Thomas Manning?" Nuada asked in concern. He had purposefully kept himself from getting acquainted with the world that Titania was a part of every day. Soon, she too would be without these ridiculous barriers to the senses. Manning, relieved to hear the prince's voice sighed heavily and closed his eyes. "Dr. Thomas Manning?"

"Nuada, Prince, whatever I should call you, did you sleep with my daughter?" he asked plainly. Nuada grinned, but knew that he would need to be more cautious with the girl's father.

"Yes," Nuada replied flatly.

Manning began to quiver ever so slightly, then remembered that the prince was the magical equivalent to a smart alec celebrity. He rubbed his head and breathed deeply. "And did you have any protection?"

"No sir," Nuada replied flatly once more. He could hear Manning's heart beginning to race out of control and suddenly feared for the man's health. "I was awakened so suddenly in the night and raced to be with her that I hadn't been granted the presence of mind to collect my lance or sword, or even my dagger, to bring with me. As a matter of fact I was barely dressed when I arrived."

Manning suddenly understood the prince's meaning and was so amused during such a dark moment that he laughed out loud for a few moments. This caused the other agents in the room to take a step backwards and look around in confusion. Manning laughed for only a few moments and then spoke again. "Look, as long as you two slept together, that's fine with me," Manning replied. Nuada smiled, sensing that they had communicated more efficiently than they had ever done and that meant that there was certainly a chance for him to have the man's blessing in taking his daughter to wife. "Just try to be more discreet about it next time and for God's sake be a gentlemen. Sleeping together is fine, being in bed together and NOT sleeping is an abomination, do you hear me? No spooning or flings without vows and rings."

"Agreed, sir," Nuada replied. He turned and glanced back into Titania's room. He was suddenly feeling himself more and more desirous of her. He had denied himself much of any physical pleasures whatsoever in training, at home, and in exile. Aside from the occasional fling with a willing peasant in Europe under a full moon and during a spirit festival, the prince was not accustomed to lying with a woman. "I assure you, Dr. Thomas Manning, that I treasure Titania's delicate nature and timeless innocence more than my own life."

"Fine, just . . . just don't hurt or compromise her and you're fine" Manning said, fumbling over his words as he contemplated mentioning the issues with the government. Before he could start, the bureaucrat suddenly heard the phone on the other end click as it turned off and the dial tone begin to blare loudly in his ear. Manning panted and turned, looking at the others anxiously. Jenna folded her hands and looked at each respective agent calmly. Manning dropped both hands to his side after slamming the cellular phone down on one of the nearby tables. "I am really, really open to any suggestions that you might have for this situation, Ms. Finkelstein."

"Well, I suggest that we all take a deep breath, center ourselves, and then do exactly as you had planned, Dr. Manning," she announced. All eyes now turned to her in surprise. She looked at Red with conviction and determination. "Go and tell the troll market that until the issues with Washington are settled that they need to head for Bethmoora at once. In the meantime, we will also contact the royal family."

"You think that a mass exodus from this area is really going to work after that fear campaign they just started against paranormal beings?" Meyers asked.

Jenna grinned and looked the youth directly and then at Manning. "They're not humans and they're not totally protected or aggressive," Jenna said with a nod toward both Red and Abe. "So, we get them away from humans who are both protective and aggressive.

"And the whole market is just going to follow Agent Hellboy after the raucous he caused last time?" Krauss retorted.

Agent Hellboy laughed once and then grasped the hilt of his Samaritan. "I think I can persuade them."

(*)

After avoiding the harsh rolling pin of Misses Badcrumble, Nuada had safely made it back to the palace. Agatha reminded the royal that he owed it to the girl to treat her with honor to which the prince replied that he had every intention of giving her honor, tenderness, and pleasure. It was the final word that prompted the old fragglewump to start after him with the kitchenware, but the elf had scurried out of the house, laughing and truly enjoying such a morning. Even with all the confusion going on in the Americas and with the Bureau as well as the threats of Grindel and Rasputin, he felt alive and filled with warmth and joy. With all the awful nonsense swirling uncontrollably around him, he had experienced quite possibly the most lovely moment in his life this day; for the first time in his life he had awakened next to his beloved after their first kiss. Their first kiss, oh how he couldn't wait to take her in his arms yet again. Even the nightmare didn't have the power to plague him over the feelings surging through him while thinking solely and strongly about his life with Titania. Ah yes, his queen Titania, the mother of his children and the only object in heaven and earth able to fill his heart with gladness and boyish thoughts of softly spoken words and romps through the Riddle Glen. This time, they could visit without the impending attack from Oberon.

For the rest of the day at the palace, Nuada accepted information and visitors in the usual manner, but with a distant and longing gaze over his features. Both Puck and the Chamberlain noticed this until the Chamberlain cancelled any further business and asked that Puck take the prince to his quarters and find out what was distracting him. Puck obliged, but rather than asking questions, he simply ordered a light meal from the kitchen with a pot of catmint and aconite tea to calm the prince's urges. He said nothing as he helped remove the prince's royal armor, layer by layer. Nuada began to gush before Puck could have even begun to ask any questions and the pwca felt it best to simply listen for the time being. He had put two and two together when the prince had run off the night before without weapons or proper clothing; he had been cursed with a vision and it had disturbed him enough to go straight to Titania. Obviously the young royal had not taken the girl's innocence, but he had been able to be in a minimal sense intimate with her. The prince removed the outer layers of his formal attire as the tray from the kitchen arrived and Puck poured a cup of tea. Nuada sat down on the edge of the bed, clad in only what he had left in the night before.

"I do wish all creatures could have this, this, this kind of grandness," the prince said with a soft sigh. Puck shook his head and brought the steaming cup along with a piece of bread to the royal. Nuada accepted both, glancing down at the bread with tender nostalgia, reminded of the piece of bread that Titania had used to give him strength enough to take him to shelter and nurse him back to full strength. Puck knew what royal was thinking about and shook his head, beginning to pull back the covers on his bed and situate the pillows properly. "I only wish that we could be together all the sooner."

"Sire, it is against the protocol of court for you to engage yourself in courting during times of crises," Puck said with almost as much disappointment as became evident on the prince's face. Puck gently hopped up onto the bed, taking the smallest form of rabbit possible and settling down beside the prince, He gently placed a paw on the royal's lap as he sipped the tea. "Do not fret, sire. Soon this will all be over and you will be together. I know that it is difficult, but this is part of your life as king." Nuada frowned a little, downing the rest of the tea as Puck tried to think of something to say to leave the mood more calm and cheerful before leaving the room himself. The pwca grinned and raised himself on his haunches. "If it makes you feel any more joined or pleased with her, I guarantee that she desires you just as greatly as you desire her if not more so. After all, she climbed under that quilt all those years ago not merely to keep you warm . . . she wanted to lie beside you."

Nuada's eyes lit up at this. Pleased that he had left the prince with something positive to focus on for the evening, Puck excused himself and allowed Nuada to extinguish all the candlelight in his room as he finished the small meal and pondered the very best next thing to do in courting the girl. He was tempted to forgo protocol entirely. It had never really been a barrier to him before and it wouldn't be too great a disturbance to announce his betrothal to the girl. He disrobed entirely, slipping under the covers and reveling in the cool, smooth caress of the bedclothes against his skin. He longed to be caressed by Titania and, if Puck was as right as he usually was, she desired the same caresses. He folded his arms behind his head and sank into his soft pillows thinking only about what it would be like to eventually have Titania here, in this very bed beside him instead of hurrying into the girl's room in the middle of the night with a bad dream. He grinned and sat bolt upright.

A dream; even if he couldn't be with Titania in person, he could outdo that horrific nightmare with dreamfasting. He grinned, relaxing his mind further and further while focusing the glowing strands of magical energy around him to carry his spirit and summon that of Titania's into the dream world. In a flash, he was suddenly standing clad in the least of the layers of his clothing in the wooded clearing where the two had watched the eclipse together years prior. Titania stepped out from behind one of the trees, looking a little confused herself. She recognized the sensation of dreamfasting and she hadn't been able to see Nuada yet, the only creature she had ever been dreamfasting with. Finally, she noticed his pale, perfect form. He was wearing a flowing black tunic over his silken pants often worn during practice but with no boots, belts, or weapons. Titania smiled brightly, realizing that she was clad in the flowing lavender gown that she had worn during their last dream excursion when they had flown over the Black Forest and the highlands. She suddenly ran to him, the two catching one another in a tight and intimate embrace, breathing deeply. All of this was wonderfully real; the smell of the prince's rain-washed skin, the scent of Titania's almost jasmine hair, the feel of the silken gown over the smooth skin of the girl, the traces of the numerous scars lining the prince's back and shoulders. Most importantly, the two locked their eyes and as the gold tinted amber swirled wonderfully with Titania's jade, the two felt compelled to do only one thing.

Titania waited patiently as the prince gently pressed his lips tenderly against the girl's, covering her lovely mouth with his warm, powerful kiss. They wrapped their arms more tightly around one another and Nuada wondered for a moment if this is how a tree felt in the gossamer grasp of Spanish Moss and ivy. The kiss lasted a few moments and then the two released one another, looking deeply into one other's eyes for a beat. Titania breathed softly and sensually while Nuada's ever inhale quivered, almost testifying that some sort of fibrillation was taking hold of his spiritual presence with the distraction of his beloved. He could wait no longer. In a flash, he had gently pulled them into the center of the clearing up on the shallow hill and was kneeling in front of the girl as she did the same. She smoothed away a lock of his hair and grinned.

"This is a dream for now," she observed. He nodded, gently stroking the side of her cheek with deepest affection. "When can this be real? Why won't you just ask me in front of my parents?"

"Would you be inclined to say yes at once?" Nuada asked coyly. Titania giggled and laid back on the grass. Nuada leaned over her, propping himself up on only one arm as he looked over her. "There are things that must keep our waking attention until then, Titania. Protocol demands it and I know you; in dreams you would take me at once, but you are just as pragmatic as the Chamberlain in waking hours. That is part of what will make you a magnificent queen."

"I'm not sure I want a throne or a crown," Titania replied with a coquettish gaze off into the distance. Nuada smiled and leaned forward, gently placing a kiss below the joining of her neck and chest. She sighed and smiled more brightly as he lingered there and wrapped his other arm around her caressing her from the small of her back to just above her thigh. She smiled and looked back into his eyes now glowing brightest gold. "But then, I suppose there are things that I must bear if I do get what I want."

"And what do you want, my lovely?" he asked in a sultry whisper. She leaned forward, gently tracing his ear and taking in the sound of a moan from him. "What do you desire?"

"A prince," she said plainly. He grinned broadly and leaned forward, placing small, tender kisses on her neck. "My prince."

"Sadly, you cannot have me as of yet," Nuada announced. Titania looked up at him in surprise. He smiled, leaning into her until the tips of their noses touched. "I have promised that your honor and innocence shall not be compromised."

Titania frowned a little, but nodded. She agreed with the resolve and although she was enamored and found something every other little girl born into western society dreamed of having, she was resolute in not allowing herself to be taken outside of wedlock. Royalty or not, the prince would have to wait. Sadly, and frustratingly, so would she. Still, what she wouldn't give for an ounce of pleasure from the elf. The gold in his eyes began to glow more fiercely and Titania's expression fell. Had he heard her thoughts? He lifted himself a little, saying nothing, but keeping a firm gaze locked into the girl's eyes. She shifted a little, but felt the prince's other arm, not only supporting him on his elbow, but now also clutching her tightly in one place. A twinge of fear moved through mixed wonderfully with anticipation and hope. Without a word, Nuada gently placed a hand over her pelvic belly; his fingertips touching her navel above her gown, but the heel of his palm gently resting against the smooth skin where somewhere beneath the dermatic layers sat her womb. She looked up at him, questioning him silently.

"Titania, I will not compromise your honor, your innocence, or fail my people in refuting protocol," he said firmly, but gently. Titania let out a soft gasp as she felt his hand slowly move downward, following a smooth path on top of the silk to resting his hand halfway down her thigh. Her heart began to race as he leaned forward to the opposite ear, slipping his cool, pale hand under the silk as he gently kissed the side of her face. Again, the girl let out a tiny shriek, but did not try to move away as he grinned and spoke. "There will be no compromise or failure . . . but I will not deny you what you truly desire."

"Nuada," the girl whispered, quivering and arching her back a little. Nuada's hand moved slightly to the center and with one precise motion that the girl could not quite describe, she suddenly felt her whole body tingling and fill with more potent joy than she had ever experienced. A wave of thrilling pleasure washed over her with his touch and she sat upright, throwing her arms around him and clutching him so tightly to her that she knew her nails must have made small holes in the soft fibers. She growled and cried out, shouting his name as the feeling moved through her yet again and her entire body trembled.

Titania noticed that a bright light was filling her vision and, as she felt her body collapse back onto the soft grass with exhaustion, she suddenly felt the dream end. The grass was now soft bedclothes and Nuada was not beside her. She frowned a little, but then sighed and rolled over, willing herself to go back to sleep, to back to the one place where she could finally be with her prince the way she wanted to be. Nuada found himself lying back in his own bed as well, having felt the same surges of incredible energy in himself that he had used to bring the girl pleasure. He smiled and breathed a prayer of thanks. No matter what transpired from this moment forward, and even though her honor and innocence were intact, he had been her first. He smiled as his eyelids fluttered closed and rest took him. Let the forces of darkness come and try to overtake him, he was ready. With the power of love he had for her, he was as indestructible as the Golden Army itself and far with greater vigor than any creature.


	21. 20 Red, Right Hand

Chapter 20: Red, Right Hand

"This is incredible!" Meyers exclaimed with excitement as the transport pulled up to where it had first introduced the Bureau to the Troll Market nearly four years ago. The younger agent nearly trembled with every breath. Abraham and Dr. Krauss were far too busy discussing how best to approach this to take notice, but Red was watching the agent with very different perspectives. Red was amused at how thrilled the younger was. Meyers had matured and developed in the cold recesses of Antarctica over the past few years, but the childlike enthusiasm and openness that had first drawn Professor Broom to the lad had been frozen in time. With or without all of the ice-shelves and glaciers intact, Meyers had somehow managed to keep himself practically intact in spirit. That would prove handy although the demon wasn't sure how at the moment. "How long ago did you find it? Is it huge? Are there like hordes of different creatures there all the time?"

"We found it the first time Prince Nasty made a menace out of himself. It's not that big, but it's my kind of place," Red replied, glancing out at the city as they passed buildings and bridges becoming more dilapidated and filthy as the truck rolled by. "And there's always a horde there, different creatures or not. That's why you're going incognito."

"So, I need to wear this the whole time we're there?" Meyers asked as he looked down at a rather disgusting amulet handed to him earlier by Krauss. The end knob had a shriveled little body attached to it that was once some sort of magical being. Krauss had pulled it from a misty container along with a pair of the Shufttheim Glasses and a cowl that could hide his more prominent human features. The smell wafting from the corpse necklace reminded Meyers of the potent old garbage can in his uncle's garage alongside the sickeningly sweet smells of gasoline and oil drippings. He gagged and covered his mouth and nose with his shirt, glancing at Krauss who was still holding the cowl and glasses impatiently. "There is no way I'm putting this any nearer to my body. I can already feel bad things happening just from smelling it."

"The scent of the market will mask it, Agent Meyers," Krauss said sternly as the other two suddenly joined the conversation and focus of the youth and the demon. The mechanical entity shoved the corpse more firmly against the agent's hands, causing the necklace string itself to press against his chest. Meyers bent forward and retched for a few seconds. Red snickered at this while Abe moved to help his friend. Krauss shook his head as Abe took the necklace from Meyers and quickly slipped it back into the container it required. If Krauss could have frowned at the amphibian, he would have done so more visibly. The displeasure was apparent in the apparition's voice. "If any of the trolls or other beings smell that there is a human among them, they will find him out and kill him."

"Duly noted, Dr. Krauss," Abe said as he allowed Meyers to don the cowl and slip on the glasses carefully. Meyers looked a little like an odd version of his own photos from his days repairing motorcycles regularly.

"Shouldn't the cologne I'm wearing cover it a little?" Meyers reasoned as he straightened himself and adjusted all the small straps, levers, lenses, and cloth that would serve as his disguise. "I mean, I put on a little Old Spice everyday and with everyone else here, I'm pretty confusing."

"I concur," Abe said. He turned to Dr. Krauss. "I think that we can cover his scent quite well with Red's and my own. Besides, we are traveling with the designated Prince of the Market as it were."

"Do you really think that will be sufficient among creatures with sensory perception far superior to his and that have shown more respect for the crowned prince's troll than Agent Hellboy?" Krauss huffed. Red walked past him, patting his shoulder with sarcastic brotherly affection.

"Cats, fish, and that old dumpster smell, what's suspicious about that?" the demon laughed as they moved out into the alleyway that led to the troll market's entrance. Red glanced around cautiously, hand on his Samaritan at the ready. Even after three years of being asserted over the market by Nuada himself, the demon had never felt entirely at peace among his 'subjects'. He noticed the masquerading fragglewump that had led them to the market the first time. She shrieked in realization, gripping her cart full of caged cats, still a little battered from the last visit, and turning to hurry away. Red snarled, seeing at least seven helpless cats still prisoner in her cart and fated to be eaten. He drew in a deep breath and sprinted after her, his heavy steps hitting the ground with a menacing thud. The fragglewump let out a bizarre scream as he neared her. He reached out with his stone fist and quickly clamped it down on the handle of the cart beside her hands clad in their bony, white disguise. She shrieked as the cart halted immediately and she flew forward, toppling over the cart and landing a few feet away. Red released the cart and stormed over to her, seizing her by the throat and holding her aloft. The rest of the team finally managed to catch up with the demon, all of them praying that he hadn't managed to shoot, hit, or tear anything apart. The fragglewump protested as best she could as she dangled. "Didn't you learn anything about animal rights from our last little encounter?"

"Red, what the heck are you doing to that lady?" Meyers exclaimed. He put up his hands and tried to look the woman in the eyes. "I'm sorry, ma'am, there's been a mistake of some kind. There's no need to panic. We're not here to hurt anyone," he said as he hurried to Red's side and tried his best to act as the responsible agent. Before the youth could finish, Red reached over and swiftly clicked one of the small switches on the glasses the boy was wearing and instantly adjusted the lenses into a proper position. The boy's vision shifted as he spoke. "Just remain calm ma'am and we'll deal with Agent _Hello! WHOA! _What the . . .? That's not a lady!"

"Well, it_** is**_ female," Krauss corrected indignantly. He wasn't necessarily feeling offended on behalf of the insulted troll, but he was agitated that his stern command had been all but completely ignored by Meyers and Abraham. "But this particular trollop has a sordid history with Agent Hellboy; a history that I'm sure he can put aside until we have collected what we need from the market."

"Dream on, android," Red replied, keeping a hateful glare at the old woman. He shook her harshly and pulled her still human face closer to his. "Now, let's go over this again. Cats are for snuggling. Anything a vendor pulls out of a steaming cart and smothers with sauerkraut is for eating. You got that?"

"Actually, I noticed at least two cat vendors while we were in the market on our last visit," Abe chimed in. Red turned and glared at him. The amphibian raised both hands defensively and stepped back as Red turned back to his captive.

Meyers thought quickly about what to say to do his trademark best to get the whole team out of a situation that would not end in a desired fashion. He didn't know much about the past events in the city, but he did know that Red had a habit, especially since his father's death, to be out loud and in the faces of anyone that crossed him. He could only imagine how intense the battle between the elf prince and the demon had been, but he was glad he hadn't been there and, as obligation and upbringing demanded, would have felt the need to step in and stop it. At least now that it was certain that Liz was caring for two little additions to Red's family and that she wasn't going anywhere, the team had half a chance of Red acting a little more responsibly than usual. It was also a dark blessing that the demon had been given some sort of power over the paranormal creatures nearby. A light went on in Meyers' mind. He smirked and patted Red's arm as it firmly extended into the fist holding the troll.

"Dr. Manning expects us to give a thorough report as quickly as possible, big guy before Congress decides whether or not Liz can come back in the next few months," he remarked, trying to sound as casual and confident as possible. He smiled as he noted a change in Red's firm, angry expression. The demon's eyes shifted uncomfortably at the mention of answering to the government and being forced to be without his wife and children. Red muttered something slightly obscene and looked away. "So let's get this settled and get inside before someone notices you accosting a troll disguised as someone's granny."

"Damn," Red muttered. He sighed heavily and slammed the old troll into the wall with a loud thud, and then released her, allowing her thick body to slide awkwardly to the ground. He turned to Meyers and gave him a look of something more than disapproval. The kid knew all the buttons to press and he hadn't even been around that long, something even Red had to admire. He started lumbering toward the abattoir that served as the cover for the market's entrance. The rest of the team breathed a sigh of relief and followed as the demon gestured for them to join him. He stood and stared in aggravation at the complicated lock. Looking over his shoulder, he spoke directly to Krauss. "Hey, Kraut, I forgot my keys. You think you can open it again?"

"Krauss,_ Krauss_, _scheissen kopf_," the entity muttered as he strode toward the door. He stood and collected himself before releasing the lever on his suit and reaching his mind through the free-flowing ectoplasm as it escaped. It wisped and curled around the lock before quickly sweeping in and exploring the order of the various cogs and gears that formed each combination. Again, he whizzed through each with ease, turning the air and objects around him as if he were an ectoplasmic acrobat, grasping the edge of each ancient oddment with a soft and swift flick of a somewhat invisible wrist. In a few seconds, he had made his way thoroughly through the whole lock and saw himself making a full circle to the entrance once more that he had seeped through. He could hear the door groaning as he slipped back into the suit. The team gathered around the door, all of them looking worriedly at Meyers one last time before preparing to enter. Krauss led the way yet. "We need to find a place to make a public announcement regarding all of this. Perhaps the central fountain or something like that."

"I don't remember seeing a fountain on any of our excursions," Abe replied.

"The map-seller might know, he seemed to recognize protocol well enough," Krauss continued. The group looked at him as his eyes began sparkling for the briefest of moments. He shook himself. "That is, the princess seemed able to interact with him and he reciprocated properly."

"So? The princess was in a hurry and there's no proof that he was just helping the right side," Red added. "What about their sound system or their electricity connections?"

"Red, I really don't see the market having a sound system . . . I didn't notice that at all and I think we've seen most of what the market has had to offer as far as obvious formations," Abe corrected quickly. Red rolled his eyes and turned to glance at the options for places of business. As the group walked inside and entered the main center of the market, everyone's expression dropped. "What the . . .?"

"Where is everyone?" Abe asked quietly. Red frowned and turned to Krauss. "What do you think, Holmes? Is something wrong here or what?"

"I think that perhaps there was some sort of announcement before we arrived that held more consequence than ours by far," Krauss observed. Red frowned and watched as Meyers' removed his cowl and the glasses without fear. Krauss groaned a little at the breach, but said nothing. The other three watched as Meyer's narrowed his eyes in the direction of one of the passageways leading away from the market. He started following it hurriedly without a word. "He's going to get himself killed, surely there are still some trolls nearby, trolls that are not loyal to his majesty, and they will kill him," Krauss said indignantly as he gestured for the trio to follow the youth.

"Not if you don't zip it, Zip," Red hissed, as they darted after the agent. They passed a large area filled with steam and odors not as offensive as the rest. Several layers of long, pale strings hung from racks around several goblins working with what appeared to be dough. "What the heck . . . are those goblins? Goblins never show up at the market."

"That's just the noodle shop," Krauss remarked in agreement. "I wonder what he . . ."

"Enough wondering out loud," Red hissed once more. "Something's definitely wrong."

Meyers headed over to a stack of papers lying in one of the corners. The group was impressed that the youth had seen them from that distance. Several of them were scattered behind the pile, but none of them appeared to be posted on the walls or buildings. As they approached the group noted that the fliers were all printed in the odd troll language on papers that had been used for other things before the market had collected them for this purpose. If nothing else, the market dwellers were almost as adept at up-cycling and recycling as many humans. Abe frowned and looked directly at Meyers as the youth handed him one of the papers. "Can you read it?" he asked anxiously.

"Unfortunately I really hadn't had the foresight to learn to read this language,"

"Well let's go ask an expert, then" Red replied, taking the flier quickly out of Meyer's hands and turning to locate one of the stragglers in the market. Too curious to be cautious, the other three followed silently. There was nothing befalling the magical kingdoms that they knew about that would have caused a mass exodus like this, certainly nothing that the prince had reported in some time. The demon walked hurriedly back to the noodle shop and flung the paper at one of the goblins. The creature winced and slunk backwards a pace, but continued to stretch and mix the dough it still held in its hands. "You, translate that for us."

"I don't speak troll," the goblin muttered softly, averting its eyes. Red frowned and reached down, seizing the creature by its neck and holding it aloft. It let out a shriek and stared at the demon in amazement.

"Then what exactly are you and your pals doing in the middle of a market with signs all over the place written in it?" he demanded.

"It wasn't our decision," another goblin announced who had silently made its way behind the one Hellboy was no questioning. The demon gently set the creature on the stone floor beside his compatriot. "We have served Jareth for many years. He summoned us to observe the market and any strange activities. He didn't want anything in the market to go unseen."

"Jareth?" Krauss repeated confusedly.

"Captain and commander of the armies under Prince Nuada," the first goblin explained as he straightened himself. "And still bearing the title of the Goblin King."

"Great, so you can tell us why this place is deserted," Red continued.

"Actually, we're just as baffled as anyone else about that," the second replied quickly. Meyers slowly pulled the goggles up over his head and pulled the cloth down and away from his face. He stared in amazement at the small, green-skinned creatures with brilliant yellow eyes and horns atop their heads. "We reported it to Jareth yesterday."

"And why wasn't _**I**_ informed, huh?" Red demanded, taking a step closer and looming over the creatures to be as intimidating as possible. He had not seen many, if any, goblins in the market and he wanted to make as much of an impression as possible. The two seemed to slink back a little at this gesture, but remained primarily unmoved. "I'm the big Kahuna around here."

"We only arrived three days ago, sir. Jareth specifically told us to keep whatever we could to ourselves," the first goblin replied, trembling. "You must be Anung Un Rama; the prince and our master have both spoken of you."

"And still you didn't think to let someone closer, someone more able to solve this, know what was going on?" Red demanded. The second goblin frowned and shook its head as the demon turned back to his companions. "So he's subletting this place to Jareth, huh?"

"I think perhaps the prince has not been informed about this," Abe replied with a tone of disapproval. The others turned to look at him as the amphibian sighed and shook his head. The princess's thoughts, at least those connected most directly to the other half of the royal line, had not at all seen this kind of action or order. "I do believe we might do better to ask him how things are going in the United Kingdom."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Red muttered angrily. "I still don't like this business of some other guy trying to run things."

"You can voice that to his majesty, but in the meantime there is nothing else we can observe or gather here," Abe stated firmly. Something in him sensed that immediate contact was the best course of action for the time being.


	22. 21 Arriving and Affecting

Chapter 21: Arriving and Affecting

Titania moved gracefully and happily down the stairs. The dream had progressed into the prince professing his undying love and making ridiculous promises about taming dragons and presenting her with stars. Of course Nuada would not have been as light-hearted in his waking hours even with his beloved beside him, he still had a reputation of stoic dedication to an unyielding duty that demanded constant prudence. That mattered very little to Titania; she had heard the words from him and they were real enough in dreams to have won her even if he still wanted all of humanity dead. She was followed closely by Ravi who was as confused at his mistress's behavior as her father might have been. When the girl had made her way to the table, however, her presence was noted and analyzed immediately by her mother who raised a brow in slight disapproval. Titania was too overcome with joy to notice. As Misses Badcrumble brought in the tray of porridge and nuts she also noted the glow pulsing from Titania. She let out a disheartened cry and dropped the tray onto the table and hurried off, sobbing as she descended into the kitchen. Titania was shaken out of her golden haze at this and frowned. Nadia cleared her throat and put down the newspaper she had been reading.

"You must have slept very well, darling," she observed coolly. Titania turned to her mother in surprise. Nadia straightened her expression all the more. "That is, you did sleep last night, didn't you?"

"Yes, why?" she asked innocently.

The authenticity of the reaction caused Nadia to relax and smile, raising the paper up to her eyes once more. Titania shrugged and began filling her bowl with porridge. Titania was halfway through the bowl when she suddenly noticed that Ravi was not at his usual post beside her. He was standing in front of the large, glass window overlooking the grounds from the dining room and staring intently out into the countryside. His focus was more specifically on the forest. She looked in the same direction, straining her eyes and even trying to summon up some of her natural magic to discern what had his attention. She could see nothing, but she felt an air of something uneasy forming. The feeling had been building for days and Titania decided that it must have been anxiety about the impending problems that the intruders in the forest had presented as well as anything facing her friends still in Trenton.

After finishing breakfast she bid her mother goodbye for the day and raced up the stairs to fetch a copy of a book that she had confiscated from the library the prior evening. It was an old and precious copy of Beowulf that had been nestled in the priceless portion of the library that had been off limits since her childhood. Titania thought that in this instance breaching the rule was acceptable. She slipped it into her backpack along with a few other books for reference about trolls and ogres as she bounded back down the stairs. Misses Badcrumble stood at the base of the stairs waiting, her eyes red and swollen from tears. Her nose was just as swollen, but pale in its disguise. Titania could only imagine what she looked like in her true form at the moment. The woman looked a little angered and it caused Titania to remain perfectly still for a beat, as if she had just been scolded. Agatha Badcrumble assessed the girl and then sighed, reaching one aged human hand out to gently stroke the girl's cheek.

"Seems like only yesterday you were sitting in my kitchen, small as an August turnip and just as pale," she said with a tone of sadness. Titania smiled back at her as the woman smoothed back several dark locks of hair and admired her as if she was her own grandchild. The fragglewump gently reached out with both hands at once now, cradling the girl's face as she spoke. "You're getting on as a woman, lassie. I never thought I'd see the day, hoped you'd always be a bouncing, bonny Brigit full of questions and wonder frolicking through the forest like a sprite. Now look at you; in love and loved by a prince. I only hope you'll not forget Old Misses Badcrumble when you're happy and settled sweetly in the palace."

"Misses Badcrumble, I could never go anywhere without you for very long," Titania suddenly exclaimed. She swiftly threw her arms around the woman's weathered old shoulders and squeezed her. Agatha returned the embrace, overjoyed to think that this would be the future queen of the magical realm. "You simply must come back to Bethmoora palace when we're married."

"Listen to you fussing over Old Misses Badcrumble. Aye, no; I said before to the king and I'll say it now, I'm not leaving my own kitchen not for anything in the world. I've kept it working proper and warm for nearly 1,000 years and I'm not about to up and leave after building a whole house around it," the woman said firmly. Titania frowned a little at this. She truly had wanted the old troll to come and stay in the palace and had seen more of a mother and grandmother in this creature than anyone else. Misses Badcrumble smirked and placed a hand under her chin. "I'll just be setting the walkway from the palace to the kitchen back to working order the moment the date is set."

"It really does mean the world to me that you approve, Misses Badcrumble," Titania added, sounding more and more like a young bride with each successive mentioning of her union to Nuada.

Agatha's expression dropped a fraction at this. "I never said I approved, lassie. That little whelp doesn't realize just how much loveliness he's stealing for his own happiness in taking you. No matter how much he does for you and yours or even his own people he'll still be essentially ungrateful and certainly undeserving," she snorted indignantly. Titania gave her a sharp look for a moment. Agatha sighed and handed her a smaller basket than she usually took into the forest. She patted the girl's cheek. "It's your happiness that lifts my spirit. Prince or peasant, I want you to live happily for every moment after."

Titania smiled at the old woman who had furthered her belief in magic and kept her safe from the darker forms of it whenever she could. Without a word Titania reached forward and quickly kissed the old woman on the cheek affectionately. Before Misses Badcrumble could reply or reciprocate the girl raced out the door and off into the forest. Agatha wiped away a tear and then smiled more broadly. The troll knew that no matter what the ruling prince of her realm faced, he would be well-prepared as long as Titania remained with him. She heard a soft grunt behind her and turned to look at what had caused it.

Ravi had moved away from the large window in the dining room, but had not moved quickly enough to make it through the door at the same time as Titania. Agatha sighed and reached down stroking the top of the tiger's head half with affection and half with a longing to taste the savory flavor of a full-blooded Indian Tiger. She turned back to the door and waved a hand, using her magic to open it quickly. Ravi darted toward it as Misses Badcrumble gave him a nudge with her left hand. "Go on and make sure that those two have something to remind them to behave," the old troll remarked as the enormous feline leapt out the door and headed after the girl. "Those two are headed straight for a haphazard hand-fasting if they're not careful. Young love is always the most dangerous, after all."

(*)

Lummeweiss burst through the makeshift door to Rhonzo's quarters in the caravan which was merely a thick curtain. The hobgoblin stirred and fumbled around the bedside table for his glasses immediately. As he placed them on the end of his round nose, he could see the girl standing a few feet away looking terribly upset and breathing heavily. He frowned and ran his fingers through his short, black and gray curls in an attempt to make himself look a little presentable. He sat upright and rubbed his back with a groan as Lummeweiss moved to stand at the very edge of his bed.

"Que es la problema, querida mia?" he asked with a yawn. Lummeweiss slammed both hands onto the foot of the bed and grasped the quilt angrily. He raised a brow at the girl as she spoke.

"I want to go and find my prince, Rhonzo . . . now," she demanded slowly, deliberately, and firmly. The hobgoblin frowned and shook his head. "I felt him dreaming, I felt him _**desiring**_ her! I want him _**now**_!"

"Lummeweiss, without magic to transport us we are a good three weeks from . . ." Rhonzo began.

"Now, Rhonzo!" Lummeweiss shouted angrily. The room suddenly began to grow cold and fizzle with the girl's inner strength. Rhonzo shivered, more from fear than the cold itself. Her labored breaths formed a poignant steam in front of her glowing face. "Take us to him, all of us."

"Vashti and the Kris will be sorely displeased with this, Lummeweiss. They do not take kindly to magic being used on them," he pointed out.

The girl growled a little, causing the tight curls on the goblin's head to stand on end all the way down his neck. He sighed more heavily and then silently shoved his bed to the side. Lummeweiss stepped back, watching intently as he knelt and began to draw many symbols on the floor within a large wheel using a magical piece of limestone formed by glass gnomes. Her eyes began to glisten excitedly as the symbols slowly began to pulse with Rhonzo's energy. They mimicked in speed and intensity the hobgoblin's heartbeat as it slowly started to increase. Within a few more moments, Rhonzo had begun an old and powerful chant which caused the symbols to lift from the floor, glowing even brighter. The symbols suddenly flew from the room and out, surrounding the rest of the caravan and all of its familia. Rhonzo could already hear the questions and recognition going through Vashti's mind.

"I will not be replaced by a human," Lummeweiss whispered to herself as she clenched her fists and readied for the dizzying transportation spell that was taking hold. "I will not lose my prince."

(*)

"Shild . . . Beowulf . . . Healfdale . . . Hrothgar . . . Halga . . . and Grendel, which isn't how I've seen Puck spell it at all," Titania remarked aloud as she scanned through the aged text in several areas. She furrowed her brow. She was doing her best to read properly the dialogue and nomenclatures from the book whose origin had mystified even the all-knowing Professor Broom and Abe. The language, translated into English of course, was beautiful and very descriptive. The events and characters, however, seemed a little too dark and frightening to Titania who had seen plenty of the ancient darkness that the book described. She thumbed through the pages and breathed deeply. She knew that humans had muddled up the details about Nuada and Nuala as well as Balor, but how did the legends of Beowulf fit into the royal family? If he was the twin of an Irish High King and Dannan, then why were these texts Danish and why on earth was there mention of Grendel and his mother and not at all of Grindel and the trolls? She shook her head and reached into the basket that she had placed on the floor beside her. Within were warm Russian tea biscuits and a bottle of tepid chamomile infused with apple. She pulled out the bottle and uncapped it, taking a pleasant drink from it as she put one of the biscuits to her lips and continued to skim over the ornate legend in front of her.

Titania gasped as she suddenly noticed the form of Ravi sniffing around in the basket without shoving his head in entirely. The tiger grunted, still smelling the remnants of some of the meat pastries that Misses Badcrumble had sent off to the village to a friend several days ago. Titania sighed and reached out, gently scratching her friend's neck as he lifted his gaze to her, licking his mouth with his long, pink tongue. "What are you doing outside again?" she asked, wondering how the enormous cat had managed to get past Misses Badcrumble and Magnus both. At the moment that seemed unimportant as she continued to glance at the passages. Each section of the book seemed like it should have been spoken loudly and boldly in front of a large bonfire to a crowd of surly men with legs of mutton and tankards of ale; not quite what she had always thought of when the term 'classic' popped into her head. She usually thought of powdered wigs, tapestries, fine and tempered voices, and candles lighting a stone palace. She sat back against the tree she had settled beneath. The images of classical literature seemed more like descriptions of Bethmoora itself right now. She sighed and laid the book on her lap as she thought of Nuada in that stone palace, candle light glistening on his pale skin and golden eyes, his fine and tempered voice quoting the poetry of the ancient bards, and sitting against one of the thickly woven tapestries of unicorns or tricksters. The image of Nuada added to any situation took it from classical or ancient to more than pleasant. "Do you think he imagines me there as well?" she thought aloud. Ravi grunted, situating himself beside the girl and playing with one of the biscuits, licking it every so often. "I do hope he doesn't imagine me in red, I look awful in red."

"You always appear to me in the tones of the earth and sky," Nuada suddenly announced. Titania jumped and then turned happily as she noticed the form of the prince standing beside the tree. As usual, even with her growing magical energy, she could not tell the moment her beloved had arrived. He was clad in the cream and crimson that usually enrobed him during more ceremonious or somber needs in the court. He must have spent the morning giving the council of elders an update and taking time to give a few reminders to Jareth as well. Wink was nowhere nearby and neither was Puck, at least that she could see. This meant that Nuada had managed to either slip away entirely for pleasure or that he had demanded a few personal moments. Either way, she was glad to see him. She rose quickly and stood a few feet away, a silly and girly hesitation still making her wait a few feet from him with a pale sheen of pink forming over her features. The prince reveled in her obvious innocence and definite adulation, it was the dream of many a magical being to be the apple of a human girl's eye. "I believe that the green you were wearing when I first saw you is more fitting than any other, though I have only ever seen you dance in lavender."

Titania blushed a little more and pulled a strand of hair behind her ear. She suddenly remembered the book clutched in her left hand. She drew in a deep and excited breath and then looked up at the prince excitedly. Nuada looked back in slight confusion at this change in her expression. She held the book out to him which he gingerly accepted. He looked at the title and the symbol on the cover with a langour she had only seen in him during some of the court's activities. She frowned a little, but still waited for him to respond audibly. After a moment, he handed the book back to her.

"It's obviously a conglomerate of mistakes in the real history of early Europe, but I think this might have some clues," Titania explained. Nuada silently asked her with his eyes how on earth a collection of human nonsense would help explain anything at the moment. "That is, perhaps some of the information about Grendel and some of the stories of this hero with your uncle's name will tell us something about what to expect. After all, Grindel isn't serving Rasputin for free and we still don't know where he got the alfskros."

"I hardly think that a bedtime story will hold that much pertinent fact for us," Nuada countered.

"Well, this isn't exactly a bedtime story," Titania continued. "And maybe there are some facts here, maybe some that your father can elaborate on."

"My father is loath to speak at all about his brother let alone discuss some human misrepresentation of him," Nuada said with a kind smile. He gently placed a hand under Titania's left wrist. She frowned a little more and looked down. The prince was not entirely ungrateful and her disappointment pained him. She meant well and she was usually able to eventually bring useful information from her collections of fairytales. After all, she had spoken to a butterfly and found the Riddle Glenn, bested the Gnome King, and led the way to the fairy court years before. Even his father had spoken of his admiration for how quickly the girl had managed to learn some of the secrets of interacting with the magical creatures. Nuada had been impressed, but more fascinated with how she had pieced together truth from utter piffle. "We have a few moments of respite, now. We can speak to my father about anything you've found later on."

"That's just it, there isn't much that makes sense about this story compared to all of the others that I've read. All of the others made sense somehow and mirrored at least a little of the things you've described and that Abe would explain to me," Titania went on. Nuada said nothing, but moved forward and gently took the girl's hand, slowly leading her away from the tree, the basket, and the tiger that had decided to nap in the forest. The two began to walk slowly through the trees, enjoying the peace and solitude with one another. Nuada remained silent as Titania gave a rough description of the book containing numerous songs and poems with overwhelmingly impossible battles and feats of strength. The prince heard her voice, but had escaped things like semantics for the time being in order to enjoy this time with her. He knew nothing but the chirping birds, the smell of the trees and flowers, small trickles of brilliant golden sunlight filtering through the canopy, and of course the feel of Titania's hand coupled with her melodic voice. He suddenly realized that she had asked him a question a brief second prior. He couldn't recall what it was, being too caught up in enjoying his surroundings, but he didn't what her to know this. "Well? Do you think that your uncle might have made all of this up and written it as a young man to do some bragging?"

"I don't see anyone in the royal line openly boasting to humans, especially with something so ridiculous as all this. It might cause the nearby human settlements to call on them too frequently anytime there was a creature causing mischief," Nuada explained. He congratulated himself on managing to reply quickly enough after she had repeated the question. "I believe that my father would have the answer to that."

"I guess you're right," Titania said with a sigh. "When is the next time he'll be at court? He comes every now and then to report on the state of the forest, doesn't he?"

Nuada stopped moving and took Titania's other hand in his so that they stood face to face, hands clasped together between them. He looked down into her eyes, wanting to demand that they spoke of something else while he tried to blot out the thought of court and all that was carried with it. He sighed and squeezed both her hands with his own. "My father will make himself known, he does so at least weekly, and when he does I shall bring him to come and speak with you. We can ask him all that we need then."

"But the sooner we . . ." Titania began.

"We have time to think of other things right now, a luxury not often afforded us," the elf interjected quickly. Titania's prudent nature was a little irritating during times when the prince wanted peace and distraction. She pursed her lips for a moment and then nodded. If Nuada didn't want to speak about this right now then she was not going to force him into it. They had been through a great deal of turmoil for the past few days and the few blissful breaks in the chaos should be enjoyed to their fullest. Nuada seemed to be thinking the same thing and had been thinking it for several moments. Another thought crossed his mind and Titania noticed a more brilliant sheen of gold in his amber eyes. He leaned forward, intentions quite obvious and welcome. Titania breathed deeply and grinned at what was about to transpire.

"There you are! I have been looking everywhere for you, everywhere!" Puck shouted. The two turned, both a little aggravated to be so interrupted, and watched as the pwca hopped up to them, taking his more human form. Ravi lifted his head, his tail beginning to twitch with excitement at the sight of the rabbit fairy. "There is an urgent matter at court, sire, dreadfully urgent. Jareth needs to speak to you at once."

Nuada let out a very soft growl at this and closed his eyes, willing the pwca to disappear so that he might have just a few more minutes with Titania. "I cannot escape this nightmare for all the magic in the world," he grumbled. Titania reached forward and softly, so very sweetly, kissed his cheek. He relaxed at the gesture and turned back to his consul with resolve. "I will be done with this quickly and then I wanted understood more clearly that I do not wish to be disturbed." He turned back to Titania and grinned. "I have other more intimate matters to attend to."

"I'll keep looking through this until you return," Titania offered as Nuada slowly and solemnly walked away.

As Nuada and Puck reached the portal that had brought the pwca hurriedly from Bethmoora palace, Titania and Ravi watched with disappointment. Titania was growing more impatient every day about being joined to the prince for the rest of her life and Ravi still wanted a good scuffle with the rabbit. The two slowly turned back to the tree and settled down beneath it once more. Titania retreated within her own thoughts half focused on the book and its odd passages and half lost in the winding desires for her prince. Ravi grunted and settled down for another nap. Both were so completely absorbed in other thoughts that they didn't notice the outermost rim of the surge of magic carrying Der Volkstein with it. Neither were able to feel the angry and determined presence of the goblin and she elf now hunting Nuada. Instead, they disappeared in the forest; the one into a dreamless feline sleep and the other into lyrics and images of Nuada himself at the bonfire regaling the story. Titania knew that as soon as Jareth had finished whatever was needed with the elf prince, he would return, more determined than ever for a private moment and this was too pleasant to be disturbed with awakened senses.


	23. 22 King of Woolworth's

Chapter 22: King of Woolworth's

Nuada had returned, unhappily, to the palace to find the BPRD Agents awaiting an audience with him and having been so adamant about doing so that Jareth was waiting off to the side of the throne room looking terribly nonplussed as well. He had thought for the briefest of moments that perhaps her father was using some sort of ruse to keep him from her, but then remembered that not only was the bureaucrat a human (and an older one at that), but that he had been somewhat more understanding of their time together than he had ever anticipated. Instead, it was the demon that had a matter to address and he addressed it loudly without pause between sentences save for, "Did you hear me, pal? I said . . ."

Nuada had almost immediately turned to gaze at his brother in law who stepped a pace backward, not wanting to agree or disagree with the anger of his friend. Nuada took this to mean that the issue was not one of a serious nature and continued to tune out what he could of the continued ranting. The prince was finding that a Bronx accent, as compared to most of what he heard from the Manhattan and Jersey trolls, was rather grating and each syllable was terribly formed. He paced back and forth ever so slightly as the demon continued, trying to go over in his mind what Titania had mentioned. The two symbols, the alfskros that Rasputin had used as a weapon, and Beowulf's wyvern that she had envisioned in the forest, had no connection to one another or to anything currently plaguing their worlds respectively . . . did they? He sighed and clenched his fists as he began to walk up the small set of stairs toward his throne, aggravated at the demon's presence and voice. He had never been impressed by the big, red braggart. Braggart . . . had Titania been right about the human manuscript? Had he or his father been using it as a silly way of impressing humans? No, his father wouldn't have used his brother's name after death and had practically outlawed its use among anyone near him. Nuada stopped at the last stair, thinking carefully. Beowulf had been written in the early days of man, when the Danes were beginning to formulate proper sentences. His uncle had been dead for at least a hundred years. How had his name been used? Was Balor mistaken about the year of his twin's death.

_Would you be, you fool_, he chastised himself inwardly. _It was his other half not a distant friend_. The prince thought more deeply about the issue between his father and uncle. Something didn't make sense about all of this. His father was hiding something, he had to be. The demon was still ranting. Nuada glanced to the corner where Jareth sat, gazing into a crystal he used for more than scrye. Another pair of crystals suddenly appeared in his hand and began to rotate with various twitches of his fingers and wrists in a contact juggling display that Nuada would have normally found so interesting he would want to imitate it. At the moment it just proved that Jareth was as fed up with this nonsense as he was. The demon, still ranting, stepped up the staircase until he stood a pace immediately behind the prince.

"And I am not going to accept you giving me jurisdiction and then start playing something behind my back. That got you killed last time, remember?" Red complained. Abe froze and drew in a sharp breath. Even he had to admit that such wording was far too inappropriate for a demon. Nuada clenched his fists and closed his eyes, reminding himself that striking the demon would not only be slightly painful, but his mate was nearby and would add to the pain. Instead he tried to think of the right questions to ask his father once Jareth was finished. Red frowned and narrowed his eyes at the prince. He reached out with his human hand and grabbed the prince's arm just above the elbow. "Are you listening to me, pal?"

Nuada suddenly whirled around, furiously kicking at the demon's shins and knocking him to the ground. While in the process, he twisted the demon's good hand at the wrist and then grasped his throat tightly, almost an imitation of Nuada having been in the demon's grasp. Abe let out a small cry and stepped forward. Manning instinctively reached for his gun while Krauss began to shout orders to Agent Hellboy and Meyers called out to him as well. Nuada leaned down to the demon's face. Red looked very confused, completely startled, and a little impressed. The elf returned no such emotion. Anger flamed behind his yellow eyes.

"Do not lay a hand on me, demon . . . EVER!" the elf said, shouting the last word. The shout silenced Krauss and Meyers, but allowed Abe another small cry. Red relaxed every muscle in his arms, trying to slip free of the prince and prove that he didn't really want a fight. Nuada held tightly. "You are in my court, my palace, MY home. And you will behave as one is inclined to do before royalty whether it suits your purposes or not. I have been plagued by trauma after trauma in my own world without a hint of a moment's peace. If there is a dispute in the market, FIX IT! If there is anything that you and your pathetic regiment cannot handle, then and only then you may make petition to me; am I clear?"

"Look, pal, I didn't want to start something this serious," Red sputtered, unsure of what the right course of action was. Nuada growled and released his grip on him, standing in a swift upward movement and then hurrying toward Jareth. Red watched the elf, muttering to himself as he brushed away some dust from his sleeves and shirt. "What's gotten up his royal highnee?"

"Red, please, I think your authority at the market is the least of our worries," Abe interjected quickly.

Jareth stood and bowed his head as Nuada approached him. The elf looked more disturbed than usual, a look that Jareth had only seen in the moments where the prince, princess, or king had faced some sort of betrayal. Nuada must have thought, or been shown, that someone had lied to him. The goblin gently slipped his crystal back into one of his pockets, virtually making the large object disappear into fine cloth. Nuada's eyes remained unmoving as Jareth merely gazed back, trying to discern wordlessly what was transpiring in the royal's mind. It was useless. He sighed and folded his hands ceremoniously behind his back and cleared his throat.

"There was a disturbance in three troll settlements in North America, two in the United States," Jareth began. The goblin glanced over at the demon and his companions with nothing short of contempt. It was at this moment that Abraham suddenly sensed that the contempt was aimed at Doctor Manning and not at any of the other agents. His gills twitched anxiously at this revelation. "The market has also been unsettled."

"Clearly," Nuada said with an annoyed tone and a sharp glare shot momentarily at Agent Hellboy. "What sort of disturbance, Jareth?"

"Perhaps Doctor Manning might explain it to you, your majesty, since it has still not been explained to me," Jareth replied, his voice slowly becoming a growl.

Nuada lifted a brow confusedly and turned to Manning for a moment. The bureaucrat looked just as confused and gave a slight shrug, gesturing toward the goblin to give further explanation. Nuada faced Jareth once more, his mind filling further with questions. "Jareth, describe to me the issue. What has happened at these settlements and the market?" the prince demanded.

Jareth cleared his throat and gave looks past the prince at the agents every few moments as he spoke. "As you know, your majesty, when our numbers began to dwindle, the goblins sought the best means of survival through the protection of trolls. Our settlements became close or intermingled one with another especially at the market," Jareth said. Nuada furrowed his brow and scowled at Jareth, angered that he was hearing what he already knew about the magical kingdom. It had seemed, since the prince had assumed the throne, that the rest of the citizens and subjects thought that his exile had distanced him from knowing any history whatsoever of the mythical creatures. Jareth sighed, realizing Nuada's continued anger. "I am sure that you are aware of the contempt that the governments of the human world have harbored and even in the past acted upon with us."

"Jareth, you have exactly five seconds to tell me what has happened in the past few days that I would not be aware of," Nuada said firmly.

"They've been taken captive, your highness," Jareth explained. Silence suddenly filled the room and became so heavy that even Red felt like he could have been easily pushed to the floor once again. After a few beats, Jareth continued. "Some of my subjects that managed to escape the humans and the machine that came for them told me that they were being taken to large transports. That they were surrounded and herded into vehicles headed for the bottom of the world; the wasteland of ice."

"Whoa, wait, you mean you saw soldiers or something come in after these trolls and goblins?" Agent Hellboy suddenly chimed in. Both Nuada and Jareth turned to him. The demon frowned. "Nothing's been passed through congress or any part of the government allowing for that sort of thing."

Jareth and Nuada turned and glanced at Manning inquisitively, waiting for assurance that this was true. Manning took a step forward and put up a hand. "You said machine and vehicle; so there was some sort of device along with their weapons that they used to capture them?" Manning asked.

Jareth finally addressed him directly. "One of my subjects described it as a living suit of armor with a glass encased soul, a strange face floating at its center," he explained. Manning frowned and turned to Agent Hellboy who sighed and grasped his forehead. "That sounds like . . ."

"Kroenen; that was carried out by Rasputin, it had to be," Abraham said as he recalled the events that had been described by Agent Meyers, Officer Connor, and Hellboy all at once. "He's garnered a greater following. How did he manage to use military to assist?"

"Who said it was military? Rasputin's had followers for years, right?" Meyers interjected. Abraham nodded in agreement as Nuada's eyes suddenly fell on the young human. He had not seen this one before, but he seemed somewhat familiar and comfortable with the group and the group seemed familiar with him as well. "Kroenen and some extremists would be enough if they had plenty of weapons, dark magic, and that nut-job Zinco behind him."

"Then they've taken them to the North Pole?" Agent Hellboy asked.

"No, you fool, the bottom of the world," Jareth corrected. "Have you even seen a map in your lifetime?"

"Hey, there's no need for that," Hellboy retorted, remembering now that they had been in Antarctica and not the North Pole at all. He frowned. Nuada turned and strode quickly toward the bureau agents. "So what do we do? The government's not going to step in and protect anything connected to us right now; not while that freak is still making comments in front of congress."

"I believe there are measures to take to acquire their assistance," Jareth offered with a wicked grin. "Measures that have been taken in the past."

"Kidnapping does not carry the same weight it once did and there are already enough creatures being oppressed," Nuada replied. He sighed heavily and began to pace back and forth. What was there to be done? The agents and their military had been forced to abandon their actions where the trolls and goblins were being held captive because of Kroenen alone. What was the purpose of taking trolls and goblins at any rate? Even if they had proven that they would fight on the other side of their kindred loyal to Grindel, that was no reason to incarcerate them. He groaned inwardly at all of these conundrums piling on top of him one over the other the next more heavy than the last. Before anyone could speak again, Nuada heard Abraham's heart begin to race and felt the presence of his sister strongly behind him. He turned, his expression softening and some of the burdens facing him lifting ever so slightly at the sight of his other half. Without seeming like a child, he hurried to his sister and took both her hands in his own. "Nuala, are you alright?"

The princess looked as troubled as her brother and she looked down as she spoke. "It's father; I sense that he desires to speak with you but will not bring himself to do so; it grows stronger and more disparaging every day," she replied softly. She squeezed his hands. "He fears that his time will be called to an end by the Ceridwen very soon."

"I will seek him out, there are matters that I believe only he can answer," the prince replied. He turned to the other agents, specifically still trying to get a feel for who Meyers truly was and what part he played for the bureau's usual team. As Nuala released his hands and hurried toward Abraham, the prince moved past the group, adjusting his sheath and gripping the hilt of his sword for comfort. "Wait here for me, all of you."

"No, we need to make sure that at least the rest of our operatives in Trenton are . . ." Doctor Manning began to argue. Nuada turned and glared harshly at him. The man frowned and sighed heavily. "Fine, fine, we'll wait here."

The elf nodded, turning toward the demon and waiting for re-assurance that he would stay as well. This was short lived as Red went looking for Liz and the twins at the sight of Nuala. Relieved that his orders would be followed, Nuada hurried toward the portal leading back to Bethmoora forest. Balor would have the answers and they were owed him. His father had kept things from him as a child, which he had uncovered as a young man, but now the prince realized that there were still secrets buried deeply in their bloodline. These secrets were not just painful memories, they were keys to undoing the evil that was tearing apart the world of men and magical creatures; they would finally allow him to have Titania once and for all.


	24. 23 At the Top of the World

Chapter 23: At the Top of the World

"Imbecile! I told you to wait for my command!" Rasputin hissed at Roderick Zinco as the two stood in the remnants of the Nazi research facility and internment camp. Hordes of magical beings were waiting in various cells after operatives belonging to both Zinco and the sorcerer had invaded the market. Rasputin growled low and folded his arms behind him. He paced back and forth and shook his head as the strange green mist continued to leak from his chest and halo his smooth head. Zinco glared at him, angered that his obviously ingenious act of sequestering practically the entire population of the market had been met with hostility and ingratitude. As soon as Rasputin turned to look at the man in the face, Zinco looked away, frowning.

"The ones loyal to Grindel have gone to serve him directly, master. The rest are loose ends and leverage," Zinco reasoned.

"And just what do you expect to do with all of them? Do you have any idea how powerful this much magic will prove to be without loyalty to me, to my purpose?" Rasputin demanded angrily. Zinco looked away once more.

"There are no trolls, goblins, or breeds of ogre loyal to you, sir," Zinco corrected through gritted teeth although with as cautious a tone as he could manage with his frustration. It had taken a great deal of work to 'legally' and efficiently round up and transport at least two kingdoms' worth of magical creatures that were primarily trolls and goblins. The faeries that they had captured were killed immediately and frozen for other uses and the rest escaped. Rasputin turned slowly and Zinco felt the subzero air grow even colder with his gaze. "Isn't that why you employed an alliance with Grindel?"

"Grindel is a mindless buffoon, but a large and combat-ready one. He is a distraction for the prince, a force to delay any attempts by the magical realms to stave off the true destiny of this world . . . of _**my**_ world," the sorcerer replied. His voice softened into a smooth, delightful smile at the thought of unleashing the apocalypse with Anung Un Rama in his service. He looked down at the hand that bore the blood and semblance of 'the master'.

Most humans, or at least, most humans in the western world, would have thought of 'the master' as Satan or the Devil. Rasputin knew better and found these beliefs of Lucifer's presence amusing Lucifer was a powerless coward who had wanted nothing more than what mortals wanted; domination. More frightening and terrifying was the prince of the realm of darkness, the demon that had lain with a human woman and in her death brought her to him, the creature that Hellboy would have been most right in calling father; Sheol himself. Sheol, like Lucifer, dwelt in darkness and hated the light, but unlike his more sophisticated and famed colleague, Sheol knew how to twist negative powers and relied on the presence of the Ogdru Jahad. They might have at one time been known as Titans and the Creator of All had great plans to destroy them one day, but Rasputin believed that, with the help of Sheol, he might beat the Almighty to the punch.

One of the guards approached the two, breaking their uncomfortable silence with the sounds of his heavy footsteps and the clanking of his large, automatic weapon against his insulated uniform. He clicked his heels together and bowed to them both.

"What is it?" Zinco asked. Rasputin shot him a look that suddenly turned the cold around him into terrible burning. He had stepped out of line twice today and these little mistakes were going to cost him dearly if he did not learn to be a little more compliant. He thought quickly and stepped closer to the guard, gesturing toward Rasputin firmly. "His Eminence will not wait for an explanation, what is it?"

The guard shuddered a little, but not something terribly noticeable. "The prisoners are growing restless, sir," the guard replied. The servants of Zinco and Rasputin, the Neo-Nazi group that had left any chance of a normal life to serve the forces that would destroy them, had been ordered to use little weaponry, no torment, and not to kill any of the creatures other than the faeries that had already made their way to the laboratories. Zinco furrowed his brow as Rasputin made a fist with his 'master's hand. It had grown large, ruddy, and tipped with vicious claws. Had it been severed, it would have made a more frightening weapon for Hellboy in place of his stone limb. The guard cleared his throat. "Some of them have used their magic, a few small spells to escape. They do not get far, but they are getting more bold and making more progress with each attempt."

"This is exactly why I told you to wait," Rasputin grumbled. Zinco was shocked at this immature display. Without a word, the sorcerer grabbed the guard by the neck and squeezed tightly. The man shrieked and instinctively grabbed at Russian's outstretched arm as he was lifted from the ground. "I believe, then, that it is time for Kroenen to make an appearance."

Zinco watched Rasputin drop the man after a minor jostle. The guard coughed and gathered himself up quickly, hurrying out of the room. The Russian turned back to the old lunatic with a wicked grin. Zinco frowned a little and glanced to the side for a moment. "I will send for him at once. I am sure he will be glad to be away from the trolls for a short time," Zinco replied.

Rasputin waved a hand dismissively at him, signaling that, for the first time that day, the man had said and offered to do something that would truly please him. A slight measure of relief washed over Zinco's face at the sound of Rasputin's footsteps leaving the room. The green mist that surrounded him began to dissipate as the sounds faded into silence. Zinco reached down to his belt and withdrew his cellular phone and pulled away a covering over a screen on the back. He withdrew a magnetic stylus and drew seven magic symbols on the blank screen. It was incredible how modern technology had managed to combine with forms of magic to make convenience and power attainable to those with the money to already have convenience and technology. Magic had its uses, no doubt, and Zinco looked forward to manipulating more of it for himself. The screen rippled with green light and the form of Kroenen's disfigured face appeared after a few brief seconds. It hissed as it breathed and growled, not bothering to ask what it was that the old man needed, but simply waiting for the instructions of his master.

"Leave the Black Forest at once and make your way to our center in Antarctica," Zinco replied. Kroenen nodded. It was enough for Zinco to give the command for the moment. There was a slight tone of disdain and fear that allowed Zinco to get away with not saying 'Rasputin Says'. A loud crash, several shouts from the guards, and boisterous goblin laughter made the old man's face twist in anger and hatred. "And come quickly. The master is in need of your services at once."

(*)

King Balor wandered through the forest in the mid afternoon. He could sense that Titania was present and that Nuada had returned to Bethmoora to deal with some sort of conflict. He could also smell tension and a bloodline that he had not encountered in some time. He froze, the fur on the back of his neck and leading to the surrounding pallid mane standing upright. His ears turned forward and upward as he recognized not only the scent of the descendant of Maeven, but also the goblin-mage Rhonzo. He grunted and stayed perfectly still as he heard something moving toward him through the underbrush. He lowered his head and took a slight step backwards, trying to release tension through even the slightest movement of all four legs. The king's eyes widened as an enormous golden stag appeared and stood in front of him proudly. In a flash, the stag raised its front legs and stood, arching his back as he turned his upper body into that of a human. His skin was still quite golden, as was his hair and the pupils on his eyes. He made a fist and placed it over his chest before nodding his head to Balor. The stag-man still bore the large rack of antlers on his head, also shimmering gold. Balor lowered his head to the ground and breathed deeply.

"Dagdha," he said sadly. The Dagdha had appeared to him before in order to explain to him why he had been reborn in the forest, why he had been forced to take the figure of a stag, and that he would be given the opportunity to see his son in his own form at least one last time. "Is it time already?"

"The time has come for a new task, Balor son of Baelin," Dagdha replied. Balor rose and looked up at the Celtic Spirit in confusion. "The Ceridwen has spoken and the Morrighan has been granted a visit from the Aislinng."

"What changes are coming?" Balor asked immediately.

"The Aislinng spoke to the Morrighan of death and loss, life and magic pouring endlessly into snow and ice," Dagdha explained. Balor's blood began to burn. The thought of that much loss and harm infuriated him as both a father and a magical creature. Dagdha raised his hand and swept it down quickly in a flash of light. Balor watched a portal open around the air that had been disturbed by the Dagdha's motion. Balor took a step forward, tears forming in his eyes as he began to tremble. He looked up at Dagdha sadly. The spirit frowned as well, but straightened his expression and looked at the former elf with pride. "The Ceridwen believes no other can do this. It is your last task to complete as the Bethmoora's guardian."

Balor let out a soft, guttural cry; a moan of sadness and resign that could only be heard by someone facing death in its fullest at a most intimate level. Nuada had heard his father make the cry centuries before when Aine's remains had been brought to him. Nuala had heard it when Nuada had leaned forward and touched his father's stone face in the throne room. Balor had heard it resounding from the human settlements after the Golden Army had finished their tasks in nearby villages and battlefields. He knew that he would never see his son, his daughter and her family, or the union of Titania to the prince. Dagdha sensed this and shifted a little, gesturing a little to the portal a moment. Balor heard another creature moving toward him from another angle. This creature sounded considerably smaller, younger than the Dagdha, and smelled like Spanish Saffron. He turned and noticed the form of Rhonzo the goblin trying to walk toward both Balor and the Dagdha.

Lummeweiss, the descendant of Maeven, recognized Balor's eyes. Balor suddenly remembered that he had made a pact with Gofannon, Lummeweiss's adopted daughter, that in exchange for the mead of renewal that the Welsh Elf brewed with incredible precisision and wonderful flavor, Lummeweiss would be promised in Marriage to his first born son. Balor's blood grew a little chilled at this sight. Gofannon had left the court, but Balor had never considered whether or not the pact was still in effect or not. The pleading and desirous look in Lummeweiss's eyes told the old king that she still wanted the pact honored. Before she could take a step towards the stag, smiling brightly and ready to fully embrace what she recognized was the reformed figure of her future father-in-law, Rhonzo placed a hand out to stop her. She looked down at her master, pouting unhappily as Balor turned back to the Dagdha.

"Please, please at least let me speak to Nuada once more, it is urgent," Balor implored. The Dagdha frowned. "Please, I beg you, there are things he must hear from me, and he must hear them now."

"The Ceridwen can relay any messages, Balor," Dagdha said firmly and pointed more emphatically to the portal. "It is time for you to go."

Balor moaned sadly, looking toward the two one last time with shame and heavy sorrow emblazoned on his proud, pale features. Balor slowly strode through the spinning portal, a large ring of rotating light. The light grew brighter and more brilliant white as the air grew unbearably cold. Balor let out a loud cry and closed his eyes against the icy winds blowing against him. He knew from the feel of the sun and the moon's positions in the heavens around him that he was at the bottom of the world instead of the top which is where most humans believed magic culminated. He gasped, the freezing air causing his lungs to spasm painfully as he fell onto his knees, burying his nose and face as best he could at his own side without much difficulty from the antlers. A strong, warm hand touched his shoulder. Wjen Balor looked up again, the Dagdha still stood beside him and smiled down at him.

"Stand up, your majesty. Your body will become what it needs to complete this task," the Dagdha commanded. Balor obliged, feeling a strange warmth moving through him. The one instance where he had been allowed to become human once more to embrace Nuada years before had felt similar to this. He shuddered and finally found the fortitude to open his eyes fully at the Dagdha. The spirit smiled and knelt a little. "You will see your daughter and her family again, your majesty, and your son as well. You will return before he weds, and you will be glad of this passing."

Balor nodded as the Dagdha turned back to the portal and stepped through, his golden glow enveloped by the white gleam that faded into the snow around them. As Balor contemplated those words and began to feel the loss of his children and grandson, he suddenly heard a loud cry and a few violent blows from blunt weapons. He moved through the snow as best he could, his hooves sinking into the cold, wet layers and causing him to shiver inwardly again. The warmth of whatever transformation that had begun was fighting with the biting chill that was attacking him from every angle. As he moved forward, he noticed that he was scaling a hill and coming to its peak. Once at the the top of the white, frozen hill, he looked down and saw Rasputin and Zinco's encampment and the laboratories. sSeveral guards had dragged a few goblins and two small trolls out into the snow and seemed to be laughing. Balor snarled at this cruelty, but froze at the next sight. A creature that did not look unlike one of the golden soldiers of the mechanical army approached the guards still holding onto the magical beings. Balor growled and watched as the mechanic beast with a glass, glowing center, lumbered toward the group with an unnatural laugh and with intentions that Balor could not only sense, but also made him terribly nauseated. The magical creatures that had been brought out into the unnatural cold began begging and crying; Balor realized that they were all female. The mechanical creature cackled with an evil smile on the disfigured face of the severed head within the glass. Balor let out a loud cry and began bounding toward the scene. As he ran, the cold faded and warmth took over entirely. He felt his fur grow thick and his musculature grow thicker. His ears shrank into his head along with his antlers, but his eyes remained large, dark, and keen, He could swear that his body had grown in size exponentially and it was now being carried down the hill on four, thick limbs that ended in enormous white paws.

(*)

As Kroenen looked down at the insubordinates chosen to make examples for the other magical beings, he laughed evilly. He adored disposing of the ones that opposed his master and defied true power. He felt that any that did not serve Rasputin were fools and that the world would be best without fools even if covered in blood. Kroenen raised a large. spinning blade that protruded and grew larger with extensions from one of the arms Zinco had commissioned to be constructed and added to the creature's metal body. One of the she-goblins began to weep as Kroenen moved toward her, blade intent on tearing her flesh to pieces.

A loud and terrifying roar shattered the atmosphere around the frightened goblins and trolls as well as the guards and Kroenen. Kroenen looked back at the sound in surprise and, if he could have gasped, would have done so. Bounding toward them was a creature that struck nothing but fear into the hearts of men and that none had ever seen in these parts. On enormous, wide paws, a golden eyed polar bear, twice the size of any normal polar bear, continued to advance on him. The guards opened fire, only to find that their bullets whipped past the white fur, nothing penetrating it. The bear roared again. Balor had never felt so powerful, so incredibly strong in all his life, he realized. Kroenen turned angrily, willing the blade to spin more wildly. Balor let out one final roar as he came nearest to Kroenen and halted his running, standing on his hind legs. He let out an even louder roar, raising both front paws upward menacingly. the guards screamed, realizing they were out of bullets, and fled the scene. Kroenen hissed and growled, taking a swipe at the bear. Balor snarled and suddenly, instinctively, brought his weight down on the metal creature, knocking them both to the ground.


End file.
